Poppies

When I opened my shutters I saw

A poppy had appeared

And it seemed to me to be life

A glorious splash of colour

Bright as the sun

Blown by the wind

The red of passion

Of the heart and heat

Of blood

With its dark purple-black core

Holding the seed casket of new life

Delicate translucent petals

Crumpled like crushed silk

Clinging to their spiky hirsute stem

Destined to fall

Written round midnight on 11 June 2011