A single teardrop
out of the sea of tears I wept without you knowing,
the darkest crimson sadness
sank deep, deep into the earth and
rose again in April.

A clump of blood someone's thrown away
lying in this riverbed, that riverbed
blown clean, clean year-round
to the smell of yesterday's sky
to the smell of sunlight I awoke.

Azaleas, azaleas.
Azaleas everywhere.