Trilliums born in country wood Flourish upon this tended lawn, Finding the shade of maples good, Liking the feel of city dawn. Topping the pachysandra beds And myrtle lighting stars of blue, They lift their white angelic heads To catch the changing sidewalk view . . . Glimpsing sometimes a passerby Who suddenly sniffs field-black loam, Sees brick-topped roads and open sky - And for the moment has come home.