Fox Gloves

Pink, purple, yellow, and white whales

on the hill swimming

in yesterday’s seas.

The silent bells of spring.

Each flower is a thimble

to turn each season gently like pages.

Poisonous to stay palatial.

Sentinel to succor a tomorrow.

A cresting call to sound an invitation

to the day’s more watchful sky.

A child’s fleet of starships

and a parent’s lone burial crown.

A model foundation to becoming.

Spring’s favorite plant to grow in broken light.