You knew me before I was born
And in every pause between breaths—
A wakefulness beyond all thoughts,
As sweet as sixteen, ever spring,
When a thousand scents carried us,
Wave upon easy wave,
Across quilts of ground-frilling daffodils
Marching, like bonneted Dutch dolls,
And hot color cups of April:
Sunset-painted tulips, wind-dancing,
Lenten roses dipping, like parasols,
And puffs of flowering snowball bushes
Playing, promising the lazy clouds
Of late-afternoon sky watching.
Forever follows, past pale meadows
And into blue mountains misting green—
Gleaming white petals flutter, backlit,
On the underside of a dogwood bough,
Your bouquet, heaven-handed down.
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