A Heaven of Blackred Roses

Cranford Rose Garden at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, June 4

The stifling heat came early this year, forcing all the roses to bloom all at once, a month before their usual designated season. I am happy to be back in the rose garden early in the morning, standing among the blowsy blooms, relishing a moment of coolness before the heat of the day comes stealing in. This will always be my rose garden, my retreat in the last few years, and my heaven.

if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have

one. It will not be a pansy heaven or

a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but

it will be a heaven of blackred roses

my father will be (deep like a rose

tall like a rose)

standing near my

(swaying over her

silent)

with eyes which are really petals and see

nothing with the face of a poet really which

is a flower and not a face with

hands

which whisper

This is my beloved my

(suddenly in sunlight

he will bow,

and the whole garden will bow)

e e cummings

"i & my parents"

six non lectures