Crocus
- Patrice O’Neill — April 1, 2010
Deep blue curls in
Protective and fierce
Am I fragile?
Crush me
Grind me into gravel
Blue petals still command your eye
Touch me
I wilt and close
Around a pungent filament heart
You will not, cannot
Walk away
Without the scent of saffron
Clinging to your fingertips

