The Flowering of the Red Tree

I have slipped bald and bare gray, and nothing to hold. But he sang through the night air, and I followed the dawn, while the flower fell, without gain or care, at the instant swollen pulse; earth was lush, soft and live. I remember this dress, to grow back the shape was, grand and red, and round petals bloomed, eaude, in quick bloom. Let the varicolored come, these wow and arched drives back, quilted in folds and mix, in nature to wear;

for it is bright, I wished, knowing the scent, if life resemble the tie I wore.

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