Spiderwort

each blue flower lives half a day
then becomes

a  purple tear    each purple tear
falls into the river    

on this bright spring afternoon
our way is lined with blue  

paddle gently   such blossoms
will not  come again 

and breathe    breathe all you can

* * *

River Bloom

floating down the ichetucknee
one march afternoon   its warmth
a joy after weeks of cold  
we pass four ibis   so young
their feathers have not yet whitened

around a bend  the scent of bridal
blossom floods the air    there was
a time when i’d have picked
some of those sweet flowers  and
breathless   laid them in your shoe