Iris
that purple flower
that reaches up
with ruffled wings,
and droops down
with falls and beards,
mirrored.
Its doubled bauble
is neither upside down
nor right-side up;
it looks the same
standing on your head
as looking from above.
Either way
it’s proof of beauty –
At least in flowers.
Can we extend that
tenderness to humans?
Upside down, right-side up,
the jury’s out.
Sometimes a poem just leaps into your heart and speaks for you. This is one of those poems. Thank you Jill!
Beautiful, Tom. Thank you. The poem leapt out at me as well. Who can begrudge that springtime spontaneity?