My life is a beautiful tangle of
dahlias. Yet how difficult to accept
what despair or delight
is offered on any given day.
I always want what is not offered,
yet what is offered could be blessed:
only missing my acceptance.
What I wanted on this day?
to awaken and watch him
sleeping, all-gathered, not mine.
Instead, these dahlias:
Their blood-burst,
their unraveling warmth,
their beautiful tangle.
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