
“Poinsettias” and “Woody Guthrie”
I know you needed many / hours of darkness / to bloom / you burned for us / in place of / sun and usually / you’ll re-green / then wither, but you’ll / come back / in another year / if you are fed / right intervals of night / is the brevity / of your splendor worth / the blindness / of your hunger? / I think of all my friends
