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The Begonia Girl
April 2, 2019
All bared teeth and reclination,
In rising tides, waxed and waning.
Your head fits in my hands,
And you have always been
The begonia girl.
A sustained tone, shifts
Like a garden canal,
Water dancing as it flows like
Fingers through a head of gold waves.
The roses will die in so much sun,
And my finger pricks will heal,
And you have always been
The begonia girl.
I see leaving the city street,
The children in Flushing Meadow Park
Blinking so slow,
And putting hands together.
We sit together, the begonia girl and I,
Upon a park bench.
In the shadows of birches:
A bush of roses.
© Lindsay T., Vernon, TX
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