Nov 20, 2007 12:08
Bulb
It could be spun twain,
as knotty as it is,
the forced bulb
in the kitchen. A match
to the stovetop gas
teases it from November
so it shoots roots
to the edge of the glass
as if to flush its nursery.
The bloom is an alien purple
to the sharp, cold light,
more onion than hyacinth.
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A belated happy birthday!
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