Our old-fashioned roses are blooming
on the trellis in the backyard.
They are pink and healthy and impossibly beautiful,
and simple compared to the new breed of roses
displayed on nursery racks.
Horticulture has joined the rest of culture
in its pursuit of excess,
and it has not made the world any prettier.
It may sell flowers,
but it does not change the odds
for the girl sitting on a garden bench
plucking petals and whispering,
he loves me, he loves me not, he loves

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