The Queen

Some of my mother’s irises always bloom
for Mother’s Day – she never cut them
but a wind-broken stem would be vased
though it saddened her looking so alone.
Flying white standards, bearded with purple falls —
the closest she ever came to royalty.

Royal Storm bearded iris

iris parts

Out of Season



Calendar autumn. Morning winter. Frost on windshields.

But in this room, spring hydrangea  blooms

from a greenhouse or a somewhere spring.

Unthinking, it doesn’t feel out of season,

misplaced in time and space.                                  I do.