Poppies in October
Even the
sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the
woman in the ambulance
Whose red
heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly ----
A gift, a
love gift
Utterly
unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting
its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
O my God,
what am I
That these
late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.