Y is for yellow sunflowers, stalks straight and faces turned
away from someone’s uneven leadlight windows. Also this February the crepe
myrtles line a forgotten street with pink, more pink than the dumb old galaxies
that no one can breathe in. Z is for zinnias, straight rows and diagonals:
strange how colourful regimentation satisfies some people’s need for order.
Someone too must enjoy this cactus with its weird spaceship flower. Annoying
agapanthus have broken down into their essential elements, designed to spread
their kind. While white grevilleas in a disorderly garden untie their compacts,
a flow-on of everything we’re given.
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