It is almost too warm for some of the flowers
For instance the primrose
Whose paper thin blossom is even thinner than that
Yellow, pale yet bright
Whose leaves are populated
Tiny specks of black, and moving,
The minutest of invaders alive on the dying leaf
By the evening a new pod, if that is the name
Of the upright shoots
The five extensions to the ever climbing stalk
Anyhow the chair is broken
Overweight after a bacon sandwich
And none too delicate in the sitting
The tubular frame closed in on itself
It's core, only of air, offered so so very
Little resistance, so back to the foundry
Back to the tube extruder, back to the
Drawing board, or the miscalculating
Computer
Tonight, or this evening
The primrose leaves will open
Around sunset; you remember the girls
Chasing around the gardens
Once and again to capture
In a mind of fleeting moments
To capture natures beauty
There in the beauty beside the broken chair
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