Some Flowers Open Only at Night

White-throated bud, pinched 
tight in the morning: an exploded 
whorl at dusk. 

Or, every consequence 
often begins in understatement.

Or, is its own 
pursuit of something
to call an aftermath.

We want to assign cause 
or blame: stain on the white napkin 
made by a mouth that can't stop 
eating too much red fruit.

Singed air above a pit
where bodies burn down
to only their elements of bone
and ash. 

One can buy sorrow more cheaply
than wine or bread. Trading it
is a different story. 

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