Flowers 4

By Christina Foskey

Fingers follow trails
through street shoulders
of cold snow, abreast
where I provide a calm
to barren hearted men.

Wadding bodies of water
knapsacks of baggage welcome
weary travelers’ do not quench

Green arms extend
for protection under canopy
safety in temporary embrace

Silver lined leaf tips
cup morning dew for you.
Who feeds me?
Moonlight music dances
on the legs of crickets,
tranquility.

Lay with me and roots will wrap you,
vines will tie you near, dear.
Sleep in my soggy flower beds,
until broken into forms that matter,
puddles of our chemistry.

High you’ve piled my pieces
like sacrifice to your gods
burn flames of me
stay warm, stay here, stay

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