Dearest, we are like two flowers Blooming last in a yellowing garden, A purple aster flower and a red one Standing alone in a withered desolation. The garden plants are shattered and seeded, One brittle leaf scrapes against another, Fiddling echoes of a rush of petals. Now only you and I nodding together. Many were with us; they have all faded. Only we are purple and crimson, Only we in the dew-clear mornings, Smarten into color as the sun rises. When I scarcely see you in the fiat moonlight, And later when my cold roots tighten, I am anxious for the morning, I cannot rest in fear of what may happen. You or I ---and I am a coward. Surely frost should take the crimson. Purple is a finer color, Very splendid in isolation. So we nod above the broken Stems of flowers almost rotted. Many mornings there cannot be now For us both. Ah, Dear, I love you! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEVEN ARTS by ROBERT FROST INDEPENDENCE DAY, 1956, A FAIRY TALE by JAMES GALVIN OWL AGAINST ROBIN by SIDNEY LANIER WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR I PAY MY DEBT FOR LAFAYETTE AND ROCHAMBEAU' by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. PURKAPILE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |