Every day is folded around br A soft center, fragrant with heaven. br To unwrap that moment br Carefully peeling back br The petals of every-day routine br To find this nougat of wisdom br Is the poet's work. br br Today it may be br A sulfur flitting across my path, br Brushing my cheek by accident. br Tomorrow it might be br Bark of a crepe myrtle br Curling at the foot of the tree br As it outgrows this year's skin. br Or tears of a child in pain br Kissing my hand br As I carefully unwind bandages br Over her burns, br the only wild bouquet br She has received in the war zone br Of her hard life.