I rinsed the stems
and lifted the dead blossoms
from those still palpable
with color and scent,
then set the vase down again
like a scale whose one side,
unburdened, rises.
The tiger lily lasted another
week. Lifting it, I thought
of Demeter and Mary
outlasting what must have felt,
at first, like desertion.
Laurie Lamon
Laurie Lamons poems have appeared in The New Republic, The Atlantic Monthly and Ploughshares
more from this author
This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 20 February 2002, on page 32
Copyright © 2012 The New Criterion | www.newcriterion.com