Rose - April 12th

Jack & Ennis

Call me stupid, but I don't know
the difference between dead
roses, rose buds & roses that are closed
for the night. I found out there's a term

for flowers that shut up nightly: nyctinasty.
A bit rude, I don't think it's all that nasty
myself. Maybe in a grotesque way,

like the way Michelle Williams' mouth
scrunches in Brokeback Mountain
when she boils a truly great love down
to "Jack Nasty." That downward, smell-
something-gross lifted-nose grimace
of a pronunciation. Those are buds I know
to be dead though, unless maybe...
Maybe she's right. Maybe all roses
are nyctinasty loves waiting for the sun
to bloom over the horizon.

— — —

Rose

I found that a floriculturist showers
flowers that close up, respond to coming
darkness, with praise of love & evolution.

The folding in of petals, resting of limbs and leaves
benefits growth, so they say. Ask me though,
I'm familiar with running away. Flowers

shut in because they're afraid of the dark.
They don't trust the soil they're planted in
to hold them firm, remind them they are safe

under moonlight, stretch out petals longer.
Ask me tomorrow morning, flowers blooming,
getting ready for the day, put on their best

unfurling for any light they can grab. Not the soil.
Penetrated and used, just happy to give it all
to the roots. Ask the soil, it doesn't know

if the sun will rise the next day. The flower dies
every night, trusting the dark to leave; the soil
can only love the flower the best it knows how.