Hydrangea flowers, pink green white
I cut and gather them into
The old, scratched purple vase
Where they arrange themselves and glow
Whether any of us notice or not.
They do this every day
Through divisive debates between powerful people
Through our debates about whether or not
to stay awake late to listen to them argue
And say you are wrong wrong wrong
And today? The hydrangeas will glow all day
Alone in the house
While we are out in the world
Remembering where we were that other
September
Measuring it against where we are now
And none of our measurements will
Be counted in blossoms
In flowers that bloomed and passed
And offered us respite
Offered a piece of the world to comfort us
From the other pieces of our world
Crashing while flowers glowed
Puff Of Smoke Poems 