I walked through the garden, The wild white roses and sunflowers, Danced like children riding Glittery drops of sunlight. They were heads above me, Speaking of memories, and laughter, Wielding their unuppered branches, To the slipstreams below. In the stillness of their color, Time bends and suspends, Each petal, each vein, brings forth Remembrances of joy, While the bees vie for attention. In this paradigm of scents, I unwound my thoughts, Became the fronds’ gentle sway, To search for beauty and reach for love.

• Anne Sexton