The water lilies laugh, though not
Unkindly. I miss it every day:
First their opening, then their closing.
I am the small joke of flowers, not that I

Mind, though I’m looking for some guidance
In return. After all, I am like
Them, needing light but not built for
Too much of it. But unlike me,

They know when and how to quit, to close up
Shop and consider, in their pleasant,
Shuttered rooms, what the poured-down
Light of any day reveals.