Radishes

I have had my share of black moods
and feeling blue; I have seen red
until flames licked the hems of sweaters;
but today - eternal return of the not same! -
my head became a radish
planted by banter
and watered by wry asides.
You could lay me on a plate
and frugally dine; I'd like to be
so consumed; but better still
was the sweet surprise (our roots tell truths)
of another radish swelling by my side.
With two deep secrets spilling themselves,
with these red faces, the wonderful garden grows.

Rachel Wetzsteon
Sakura Park
Persea Books, 2006