Elegy for Words
They're gone, she said, drowning the last
Cracker in tomato soup. That day, I shook
The salt and pepper for her,
Her hands too weak for lifting
Even a cup of water to her arid lips,
To quench the raging cells inside her bones.
I assumed the future. It came
Like winter in the midst of summer,
Freezing the edge of the goldfish pond,
Catching the flowers naked in full bloom.
I would not say they were afraid, those flowers.