Delicate Chalices

Every fall
without fail
the long slender stems
emerge
wholly white
star crowned
delicate pale purple
chalices 

Every fall
without fail
the Widow Wyile
opens her mouth
a round   oh   of
surprise emanates
spirited greeting
to these wondrous
lanky beings
lounging
in her garden bed 

Portents of depths
celestial
terrestrial
reliable as asters
yet seeming
otherworldly
messengers
marking time
matters sublime 

Every fall
without fail
the Widow Wyile
remembers
that she once
again
forgot
to expect them* 

a telling detail
is it not?

*Colchicum autumnale