Appearances Sometimes Lie
I bend low
in search of wild ginger flowers
among the leaves that did not rot away,
for winter was but a wisp of time,
no friend of elfin blooms so short in sway.
Yet there they are, I see them,
red, with horns like little devils.
In truth, they are the angels of shade,
the friend of those who know
that gardens grow on many levels.
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