Iris

There was a time when
your letters were candles
in the darkness for me,
lights to guide. Days I
drowsed in class counting
minutes until I could reveal
my soul to you.

I read words, poetry, your
vision of me as a lady of
noble beauty. “I will think
on you as a lovely iris, deep
in hue and long-awaited
with anticipation.”

Why did you fail me, let me
go alone into reality’s cold
stream? How can I reclaim
an image you grew? Now
weeds tangle through my
garden-heart.