Cardinal Flower
Red flash—
a few sprigs
puncture the monotony
of brown-green bog,
never-ending evergreens
and skeletons of cedar.
I know you,
skulking in the wetlands
between bridge and dam,
around the island,
beneath the boulder’s shoulder,
under jack pine.
When I pull you up,
your grace drains fast—
I replant you in a box
outside my window.
Spindly girl, you must need something wild
I cannot provide—
you refuse to root for long. Oh
well. I’ll just sit here, drinking
in your pure, red element
for a few days
while you struggle
to stay alive.