Nature's Flower Runs Through My Fears

Nature's flower runs through my fears, Her old seasons there interceding On the silver gray blunt of the shears, Where the stem—sharpened by night—is keeping For the day's rain starving in the clouds; This time, it needs your weeping. When coming down, there's no damnable sound— A forest saved, though unholding's deep; I remember the lasting growth in Winter how She swayed for my practiced meet— The Spring, in her way, walks on near Beside a street's slab of raw concrete; And green or blue mists look like tears— Nature's flower runs through my fears.