The flower pod, green-white, hand sized,
bloomed at night. As the dead increased,
the world of objects seemed more dense,
different from when our child-days dragged
or a sunflower's face, which, once arrived,
was heaviness itself. And it was different from
parenting, when days were thick,
years thin, or a poppy with a stem. There were
more cadences ascending and descending nearer by.