Elisabeth Murawski: “Tulips”
TULIPS
Each spring I wait
for these yellow
knock-outs to arrive
arrayed in threads
a king would envy,
their ground time brief.
After the storm,
each tulip’s less
cup than a blank eye
by Modigliani,
droops on its stem.
The surrounding grass
is fresher, greener
for the rain.
I who have been
so tenderly moved
by a communion
I am not worthy
to receive, realize
my fear: what gives me
so much joy
has been taken away.
The grieving
are advised to think
the dead remain
apartment dwellers
in the mind and heart
of love. I so want
to believe this,
in little hymns
to yellow tulips
too beautiful to live forever.
In torn, brave flags.
Elisabeth Murawski is the author of Heiress, Zorba’s Daughter, which won the May Swenson Poetry Award, Moon and Mercury, and three chapbooks. Still Life with Timex won the Robert Phillips Poetry Chapbook Prize and has been published by Texas Review Press.