I love the season of peonies, for their color, smell and their fragile nature. This spring we have had so much rain many have ended up with their blossoms in the wet field. I have been gifted with bouquets of the most tender singles and gathered armfuls of pink and white which I have kept going in the cool basement. I don't want to leave behind their fragrance and the way the blossoms swallow the light.
I want to leave
no one behind.
To keep
& be kept.
The way a field
turns its secrets
into peonies.
The way light
keeps its shadow
by swallowing it.
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