Lingering
Lilies
The last few lilies on the
stalk
Seem hesitant to me.
They’ve colored—slightly—and
imply
They’ll soon be bursting
free.
So dilatory, these last buds
In this September dawn.
Perhaps they know their
siblings—all—
Have blossomed and have gone?
Or maybe it is Death himself
Who’s keeping them inside?
Why spread your glories to
the sun
When Death will coincide?
I feel some kinship with this
plant—
Though my veins run with
blood.
Perhaps I too would never die
If I’d stayed in the bud?
His ex- was wearing sexy
jeans
And broke his heart to
smithereens.
Shakespeare Couplet:A Midsummer Night's Dream (41):
Our Theseus with his
soon-bride-to-be
Debates the breeds of
dogs—most amiably. (4.1)
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