while the roses were drinking
i set the milkweed seeds
sailing on the wind,
watched as the air currents
caught their silken parachutes
and bore them aloft
and out of sight
soon they will fall to the ground
and die, and be forgotten
but perhaps somewhere next summer
slender green stalks will grow
and broad leaves unfurl to succor
a mother monarch on her migration,
their familiar scent saying
hello darling, we’ve been waiting
as she rests her weary wings
