Poet
Lola Haskins
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
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