February 10, 2022
A Flower
The reaches I would go for you be deepFrom Hades’ pool to Zeus’ high perched viewBut matter not how much you pray nor weepNo flower dare come close to match with youA flower lives surrounded by the loamAt nature’s mercy, it lives small and meekTo live in solace, never free to roamWith breathbound pollen making great men weakBut you who makes the choice to step on stoneWho moves both wind and wave at her own willWho makes her creatures sing with tender toneYour value lies not a lone, green hillAnd when the blossom ends and petals wiltMy love for thee shall be my temple built
—Jake Puestow, Poetry Editor