The Image of A Woman Stuns Me

The image of a woman stuns me –

My fiver year old daughter’s flower,

Left in green thin wrap to wilt

Now stuck through the water

In the giant plastic glass

I keep by my sink, opening,


Vibrant, in the incandescent light

As I brush my teeth and tongue

Spitting dreams one instant, then

Studying tooth stain and belly

Overlapping the new day

And my naked soul diffused.


A pink carnation spreads across the bath

As much aware of me as the effort

Needed to crush the moist petals

Isolates intent from joy

And fragile insights blossom

Into observation nearly lost.


Now, I delight; though, only now

A giant plastic glass filled

Sustains a few moments: embellishes

Simple life almost lost unnoticed

In the crisp and folded expectations

Of foregone conclusions.


Her mother stands naked too, her hand

Touching her soft skin wilting softer

And her soft breasts, softer still – and desire

Crumbles unnoticed in a delicate heap –

Yet an unearthed Flower sucks the air and

Blooms easily through its final hours.


It somehow makes sense that

My daughter’s flower blooms

While the image of a woman stuns me,

And the water and light infuse my soul

Tightly aware that confounded and confused

I comfort her like a stem.


1992 – Houston