The
Mimosa
Is
Hung
About
With
Rain,
Precious
Water
Rushing
To
The
Storm
Drain.
This
Deluge
Will
Revive
And
Keep
Alive
October’s
Blooms
To
Grace
My
Rooms.
When
They
Are
Winter
Dead,
I’ll
Have
Their
Image
In
My
Head,
To
Last
Until
Spring
Awakens
Every
Living
Thing.