Foxglove

O sad Foxglove
You never know your love

Demure, you bow your head
          And wait for your lover's touch
Gentle breeze on your leaves
Lust in gusts
Caressing you
         pollen settles on petals

He will make love to you on the wind

Though far away
         he has kissed you softly
And passes across the grasses

And is gone

Your children
        you never see
They waken once you wither
And cling to your remains

How solitary your sadness
Waiting for your lover to knock
Rocking gently in the breeze

Through trees

Is this all to love?
Friend, Foxglove?

(written earlier, but lost. An attempt to rewrite it from memory, Jan. 24, 1996)