In the garden
                they all play
thorns against the breeze
and butterfly leaves.

Red roses in the garden - Sour red
with sweet bread she brings, sings
and whispers, swapping steps closer.

A toothless daisy becomes a sun.
Beauty into beauty, shaking
               her hair undone.

In the garden
               they all play
thorns against the breeze;
she moves not to capture darting eyes,
watching butterfly leaves,
watching butterfly leaves.