Peonies Framed by Sappho
       

Come, then, loose me from cruelties.
Frost, spring' s morning lace, no

longer endangers. Ants unfurl
buds under a sheet of fog. Feet

pry and press until petals burst:
red, pink—double crowns—scent

released from the core's fist.
Unsealed blossoms flop over

fences. I cut seven crimson,
two blush. Five white even

out the bouquet's number.
Peonies spread, scent the whole

house with June. One flower
drapes—an umbrella; ants spill

down the vase. To my bare feet,
shears slip. Save me. Peel away

doubt with tender friction—
give my tethered heart its full desire.

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Copyright © 2016 Christine Stewart-Nuñez All rights reserved
from Untrussed
University of New Mexico Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission