Flowers

Where are the flowers anymore? They have
closed their blind eyes, averted their
faces. Soon the rain will flood them
from their stems. Do you remember?
It seemed like only last week they were full
of laughter like a pitcher of tea left out
on the porch to steep for a few hours
in the sun’s warmth. Where does time go

when it goes off like that? It’s always
here, always with us, over the shoulder,
do you feel it? I’m about to fall asleep
it’s so heavy, pushing my eyelids down,
Narcissuses bending to a pool, maybe even
to drink. If I’m not careful I’ll drown.