By: Ruth Deming

She curves like the crescent moon
tiny blossoms with Roman noses of
deep character, serious flowers
who know the importance of every
single day, to treat well your
brethren, bow before them, pass
them food when they’re hungry
and make for them a place to
lie down in the cold as if
Christ were watching from on an
high. Who really knows what
goes on beyond our small
garden plots, where jonquils
faithfully slide through the
cold cold ground. Have faith
all ye who falter!