At last—those holy city
parks and
gardens—
full of yellow
and orange,
full of pink,
red, and violet-
striped lollipop tulips—
are beginning
to shrug
and wilt
and lose
their neat,
laconic integrity.
What a sweet
and lazy relief
to see their humid
tiaras slip,
to watch them crumple
and rumple,
and melt—
and finally start
to look
just as guilty
as the rest of us.
