A low stone wall frames the patio.
We fill a dozen pots with flowers
To set upon the wall.
Inpatiens, Dahlias, Begonias surrounding the summer.
The heavy clay pots refuse to turn -
Refuse to give the northern petals face time with the sun.
We bought three light pots.
They sit by the side of their sturdier neighbors.
The bees -
Though I am sure they have noticed -
I have overheard the discussion -
The dahlias -
Not defiant -
Perhaps indifferent -
But no one -
Not even this gaudy butterfly who flirts with everyone -
Not even she -
Would mistake for terra-cotta,
These common plastic pots,
No one on this beach
Would mistake for that sunlit girl,
That decades-ago girl -
No one would mistake for that girl -
Long-limbed like Diana,
This loose-skinned woman,
This thick-waisted woman,