Flower! Like my sister standing
at her mirror, just back
from far away, far away byways of youth,
where she was racked with longing and lack:
last night's frost came down
to bid your yellow petals bloom, perhaps,
while I could not get to sleep.
For one chrysanthemum to bloom
a nightingale
has sobbed since spring, perhaps.
For one chrysanthemum to bloom
thunder
has pealed in dark clouds, perhaps.
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