Peonies by Mary Jo Salter

Peonies

Heart-transplants my friend handed me:
four of her own peony bushes
in their fall disguise, the arteries
of truncated, dead wood protruding
from clumps of soil fine-veined with worms.

“Better get them in before the frost.”
And so I did, forgetting them
until their June explosion when
it seemed at once they’d fallen in love,
had grown two dozen pink hearts each.

Extravagance, exaggeration,
each one a girl on her first date,
excess perfume, her dress too ruffled,
the words he spoke to her too sweet
but he was young; he meant it all.

And when they could not bear the pretty
weight of so much heart, I snipped
their dew-sopped blooms; stuffed them in vases
in every room like tissue-boxes
already teary with self-pity.

***************************

Beautiful.

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About whoopeeyoo

I'm a TV and film junkie. Be it American, Korean, Japanese, Taiwanese, I watch them all. No wonder I don't have enough sleep and hard drive memory. Hee. And oh, fangirling is my business.

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