(A Paper-White Narcissus) Just For Me | Centre Daily Times

0 you divine gift!

You invader of a dark day

with your silent infusion of Eden!

You treasure-chest of joy —

hearty harbinger of God's bounty!





This morn you have emerged

from your green cocoon —

pristine petals, a sextant sweet,

an emulation of Orion.

Naked you stand before my world

baring your secret scent.





Precariously poised

atop a staunch pillar —

a beacon

perfuming your proximity

with a profusion of pungency

just for me





it was such a tiny squeak





it would be lost in a timeless void

but for the kindergarten ears

that were learning the world





that squeak is embedded

deep in the maws of memory

Mother pressing the wooden

clothespin down

forking it over the corners of the cold wet snow-white bedsheets

clasping them tightly to the clothesline so they would fly like flags

whipping in the wanton wind





I never hear that sound anymore

and the breezes carry pollution

there are no wooden clothespins

or sagging clotheslines

with their ghostly garments

and Mother died.