Flowers emerge from chaos, as they always do,
and in determination or youthful energy,
the branches of the small fir seek the low clouds.
Susan with her yellow dress and midnight eyes
dances with the honeybees in the mist.
A deep pink, like red and white roses falling into each other,
is suspended from greenery above lilac-purple,
and trumpets of purple and white:
what tune do they play?
Only the small birds and insects can say.
Yellow bowls of petals seek to catch the wind
and Susan’s cousin, the white lily, faces the sky behind them.
Susan twirls in endless green.
Birdsong: heard; bird: unseen.
Emily Karreman is a third-year student with majors in History and Russian and a minor in Spanish. ek1019612@wcupa.edu