Monday, July 4, 2011

i can't think of titles for my poems anymore

In spring, the kerria ate the rose,
and bush-tits gathered upside  down
and right side up.  But I barely noticed
the gray bodies against all that yellow.

Summer has ripened and you are gone.
It is warm in the apartment
and the forgotten rose has bloomed,
is wafting through the open door.

I don’t know if it is the thought
of you, or the height of the blushing
flower, but my skin is burning,
says I want you here.

Maybe that's why I keep looking
out the window to catch the lone
yellow warbler in the kerria,
which has surrendered color. Which 
ate the rose and gave it up again.


  1. beautiful

    i looked up the bushtit and the warbler and kerria, i see now

    the last stanza is wonderful - 'which has surrendered color. Which ate the rose and gave it up again.'


  3. this is beautiful. i really love, love the ending. i too had to look up bushtit. such a funny name. bushtit.