Flwrs

conquering the gates was a bustop.

crinkling the bridge of his Germany

a country regenerating off a small downy feather.

Joseph could not be expected to the gulp

attempts to scale it that remember everything.

French windows and into the glare

died Fine Art in Berlin.

Joseph had a flowerbed on a windowsill

head of an elegant carnation, Joseph,

atom; the stamen, circled with bees

here in this garden looking deep into the

the old physicist, sees the flower as an

unlike the autumns from Joseph's

piles of rotting leaves. Now, though,

breeze. the garden was so alive, so

childhood where summer lay dying in