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...EVENING SONG OF THE THOUGHTFUL CHILD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CRITIC AND POET by EMMA LAZARUS TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH CANTICLE OF THE RACE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |