Glass: A Journal of Poetry Volume One Issue Three
Absences
The peonies bend, heavy
clustered fists.
They bloom early on the south wall,
white-gloved hands relaxing into globes
of musk. My neighbor brought them
over in a bucket to pile
on the piano and admire.
Did you know,
they can't open without the ants?
Ants loosen the peonies' tight buds
with their tiny bodies.
I had been
thinking how lovely they were.