In the garden (a death)

In the garden moon-pale translucent silver dollars
papery as fly wings
feeling them between my fingers
wondering when they might be ripe enough
to spend on penny candy

In the garden
a tangle of honeysuckle
clinging to the tall chimney
drunken hummingbirds
sticky sweet cloying perfume
rising up like heady smoke

In the garden
chinese red and mandarin orange
bearded snapdragons
keep their own council
never speaking out
until picked by small hands

In the garden
funerary arrangements of white lilies
clutched in two hands
prone on the green grass
gazing up at passing clouds
a soul contemplates heaven

In the garden
russet bricks covered in amber moss
brushing back the fine hairs
soft as silk velvet
pretty enough to use as a pall
for your powder pink casket

In the garden
long gone and lost as Eden
petals shatter, brown as caramel
curling and going to seed
dormant under turned earth
waiting for another spring