"Duckweed" by Richard Luftig


The smallest flowering plant.

Last night,

A full moon

In the bedroom


This morning,

Winter sunlight

Bathes the southern


I have worried

About living

This short life

For so long

And still

It remains,

This house

Of half-done things.

But the duckweed

Out at the fringes

Knows how

To survive,

Knows how a single

Root can cover

The pond

With flowers.

And down by

The drought-

Drawn creek,

Old cedars

And pines