“The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac” (part 4) by Mary Oliver

Late yesterday afternoon, in the heat,
all the fragile blue flowers in bloom
in the shrubs in the yard next door had
tumbled from the shrubs and lay
wrinkled and fading in the grass.
But this morning the shrubs were full of
the blue flowers again.
There wasn’t a single one on the grass.
How, I wondered, did they roll back up to
the branches, that fiercely wanting,
as we all do, just a little more of
life?

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