Cease the keening for iris and crocus.
Say goodbye to flattened, fading, and fallen
lily petals that lit up pond with their startling white
as evening married night.
Keep your eye on the hibiscus that, seized by July,
will bring forth alabaster bloom after bloom
after bloom, opening them like umbrellas with red tongues,
then launching them like novas just before
they land and lay silent
strewn about like shreds of silk.
Crave the unfolding magenta of crepe myrtle
in August, those stately blossoms
upright and pointing to sun.
Beyond this, let your thoughts rest—now
you sit by pond in a pool of evening’s light
and watch bats seesaw and frolic
and ricochet between moon and branch
their morning just begun.