Jack Kristiansen

     

       Blooming        

                      

after Paul Klee’s Strange Garden (1923)

 

 

bits of dirt

still on her bare knees

 

she’s huffed inside

to gripe to the cats

 

that her mother

has called her

 

“exasperating”

when all she did

 

was break the necks

of those two marigolds

 

who’d made faces at her

and of that zinnia bud

 

who’d dared to wink

 

 

 

 

 

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