This poem is taken from PN Review 106, Volume 22 Number 2, November - December 1995.
Two Poems
March Purchase
Irish tulips
at their core are warm.
Red and jarred they
lie about Spring,
the dirt on their bulbs
a botanical trick-
they never rooted
in this landscape.
February's sunlight,
measured in minutes,
could not have bred
this red in their petals
and yet they burn
in the market, pursed
buds transported
...
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