we picked bunches from behind
the overgrown band stand.
Laburnum, (oriental lantern flowers),
Lilac (every drifting hem), cherry blossom
(old fashioned) and cow parsley (organza trace).
Some, we pressed under heavy books,
to lie between thick pages.
Kept in the dark, they lost their colour
their beauty faded to pale and tissue thin,
a list of names.
We wrote by hand in ink:
name, date when found.
Dandelions stained our fingers
and their intangible gossamer clocks,
drifted away like moths.
In winter, we would
conjure the flowers again:
with paints on paper, making a new book,
where they rambled in profusion
and were wild. Tumbling and falling
keeping the difference
of their own light and summer;