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Peonies are large luminous flowers with no discernable scent
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Their skins are crushed together in the rain.
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The petals of the peony are innumerable,
each is different from the other.
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The petals grow smaller in the center, half formed
in a flurry of birth.
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These inner petals take the form of
a wing, an arm, a sickle.
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In the center is a flurry of pollen.
It is the deepest yellow, a fine granulation.
It has a floury, sweet taste.
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I take apart the flower, pulling out from the base.
My hands are yellow.
The entire flower is cool, silky, resilient.
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What happens after the flower?
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All the flowers this year have been destroyed by rain.
They lean down touching the earth.
Their heads holding the rain like cups.
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Will a thousand years wear away his scent?
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The earth is covered with the silky remnants of their skins.
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I have seen these flowers blooming in
in the gardens of my Queen.
A bush yielding a single flower
as large as the head of a young boy.
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With all their fingers, they push it open before it has
even bloomed.
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