They come too early and are spent
before the party they were to have served
as a conversation piece for,
or are so late they are
the stargazers had come out,
or are sparse this year, or
so full they can’t be believed.
So, they lay their
magnificent, perfumed bouffants
on the ground, long before
it is time to cut them down.
Why had no one warned them
of the heartbreak of blooming?
Ron Bernas lives and works in metropolitan Detroit. He came to poetry late in his writing career. These are his first published poems.