Simon Perchik

*

Instantly! a blossom
not sure why it's climbing
or if your lips
changed color closer to the sun

joined to some soft field
you can't remember, to petals
almost those great flocks
once overheard: a warm rain
pouring unnoticed through your cheeks.

What you say floats off
and breezes long ago extinct
whose sweet light lays imbedded now
in mountainside, in the fragrance
once the name for flowers
that begin in the sky

--you lift the sun and your chin
catches fire: a bloom opening
your lips and almost remembers.