A Tulip for Darkness

It stands tall, singular

in height as well as colour.

I don't remember buying it,

so it must have been a sport,

or a squirrel-delivered import,

and now it stands

tall and white

among the reds

(for red is the only tulip I buy).

 

At night—those dark and still-too-long

spring nights—

the reds close up

and dissolve into the blackness.

Alone this tall, white goblet glows

returning to us the brilliant light

of that day's sun.

We see it from behind our closed window.

It stands sentinel

marking the territory

reminding us of brighter nights to come.

 

And by then the petals of this white tulip

will be scattered on the dark earth,

its duty done,

its strength gone underground.

 

 

Copyright © 2020 Ann Tudor
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