THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT CHRYSANTHEMUMS

I

The scent of death,

A black bird carries one in its beak.

II

Decorating gravestones,

Adding a splash of color

To neutral tones.

III

Delicate stem, arching up

Struggling

To perch atop its head

A white hat.

IV

They swept the graves that day,

Dia de los Muertos.

Besides,

It was only to celebrate

All Saint’s Day.

V

In the garden,

Alice sings with the flowers.

But this one

Is thrown on the compost

Heap.

VI

These ladies like to dress

Fine,

Though the others,

The wild ones,

Don’t care for appearance.

VII

The sun rises,

Painting the sky red, yellow, purple, and white.

VIII

Sticky rice balls,

On green chop sticks.

Stick it in the dirt,

Call it a flower.

IX

Hardy mums stand in line,

Ready to comfort their sick child.

The cockle shells and lily bells

Make them wish they were more wild.

X

Lenore, Lenore,

Sweetest at the core,

Your greenhouse doth flower!

With Orchids and Chrysanthemums,

Over Cockle Shells and Pretty Ladies they tower.

XI

The bones curl

Around this flower.

The last comforting gesture

Before the darkness.

XII

We dance and throw

The petals,

Making a trail

For those who have passed

To find their way home.

XIII

The dwarf star ends its life

With a bang.

Isn’t that how you want to be remembered?