FOR DAISY, ON HER 13TH BIRTHDAY

FOR DAISY, ON HER 13TH BIRTHDAY

A breath, a sigh, a breath, a sigh—you loll
faux savage in the delighted garden,

adrift in dappled maple shade. Roses
and rosemary, camellia and birch, hares

dancing on elephant heads, shady plum
and bobbing apple, star jasmine, kaffir

lily, abutilon, daffodil and freesia,
heavenly bamboo and beryllium rods tinging

in the soft-circling breeze—a zydeco
of impossible blossoms rocks the day

awake. What a dream to wake to from sleep’s
deep plunge. Tonight, constant kisses, cake

and a light stroll on the town. Tomorrow,
the doctor. So take in the fickle sun—

suck bliss from each waft of wisteria,
coil and stretch below the pyracantha.

Know each good day’s a boondoggle, a birth
day to mark the way you bamboozled

utter nothingness, and out of your parents’
glad panting, made a name for yourself.