Skip Ribbon Commands
Skip to main content

Poetry

Perennial

So what if next year the deep pink burst
will not appear outside my door.
What if, after all the tending,


the IV's filled with said miracles--droplets
from the blood bags that reawaken your body,
ignite your mind--your face,
a blossom, will not appear outside my door?
Today, June peonies lighten my path--so what


if next year they do not come back? If
they do and you do not,
I'll hack them down with an ax--
that they dare reappear,
their spread petals wild tongues
screaming SO WHAT?

 

 

 

 

Hahn, Susan. Poetry. Modern Poetry Association, 1998.