Purple Springs

There are flowers poking through the mattress springs. No longer a mattress; just rusty metal coils Turned about themselves and thrown out to rot. But if you squint, you can deceive yourself To see something there among the crocuses, violets, And copious amounts of morning glory; A violent, violet, petal soft bed sheet Fit for a faerie's sleep You'll miss her if you blink- ------Turning in bed, eyes red ------In the purple depths of late, late night ------There are vines beneath me, crawling through ------The mattress, bed, and sheets. ------I feel the stirring, feel the change ------Exploding, Impatient ------Held back by a groundhog's shadow -If you sit behind the irises, There are places to lie without breaking a stem. Close your eyes, and wait The morning glory will cover you Fill you with purple when you breathe. And if you can find the will to rise, You'll carry it with you like a crown Angel's wings to show them what you've found Though in the darkened lilac you may drown- ------I get up for a glass of water ------Shivering, all exhausted energy ------There are vines about my feet ------Tangling, tripping, trapping. ------I feel the moon in the window ------Watching, Shouting ------Trapped in filaments on the glass -Come back, and the mattress may have dissolved Into the dirt so dry and old and brown Springs coiled in, then out, then nothing but dust But if you wait, you may change your mind Nod to the pansies, orchids, snapdragons But morning glory first, and most of all. The flood of color deep as any night, Dark as plums and vibrant as sunlight And if you sing then you may hear a faerie's flight- ------Sleep on purple springs, ------And say good night.