"The Flower," by Robert Creeley

"Meadow Flowers--Red Campion Set," by Anna Wiscombe

The Flower
by Robert Creeley

I think I grow tensions
like flowers
in a wood where
nobody goes.

Each wound is perfect,
encloses itself in a tiny
imperceptible blossom,
making pain.

Pain is a flower like that one,
like this one,
like that one,
like this one.

[Poem text via academia.edu]

[Image via Anna Wiscombe on Etsy]