CALLA LILY
In one far corner of a corner
exuding messages you stand.
Prim, waxen white
bell-shaped, yellow-tongued,
long green throat singing in the wind.
You sing, but not for me.
You in your own destiny
are wrapped.
So it should be.
Let each sweet growing thing
be so enamored with itself
that all infinity
shall bloom with selfishness.
