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
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
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

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