I don't have any zinnias in the garden; they are annuals and I concentrated on perennials. But I love them and vow to plant them next summer.
Here's another poem by Mary Szybist:
In the Glare of the Garden
Yes, the open mouth
of your watering
can, it
reminds me of you,
of
rushing toward
smallness, toward
a bright and
yellowish
color. Its mouth
is smaller
than any part of
it,
smaller than any
of those red
or yellow petals.
It
reminds me of me,
of
smallness that
seems
closable, but
isn’t. Go ahead
and tilt it, keep
it
up over the
zinnias—it
isn’t empty. The
zinnias
have their tongues
out now almost
completely, let's
have it
go to them. I
don't think it has
ever seen them
before,
let's have it
hold in the air a
little
longer—it doesn't
know
the smell yet,
yes,
I think you want
emptiness
also, let's have it.
And the zinnias
open and spark and
unregarding it goes
out to them.
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