The Cardboard Garden

by Janet I. Buck

The box says in three-four weeks
precisely six blossoms
will greet the nervous air.
They will all be perfect and white
with spiking green leaves
immaculate as bloodless swords.
I'm buying you this, in case
our dogwoods in spring
are only an ivory mirage --
in case I'm saying goodbye
when the first warm rain
melts this crust of snow in
shades of dirty bone.