if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)haveone. It will not be a pansy heaven nora fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley butit will be a heaven of blackred rosesmy father will be(deep like a rosetall like a rose)standing near my(swaying over hersilent)with eyes which are really petals and seenothing with the face of a poet really whichis a flower and not a face withhandswhich whisperThis is my beloved my (suddenly in sunlighthe will bow,& the whole garden will bow)