Picked carelessly from the hedge

a stem that stood up above the rest.

I twirled it round as I stood look-out for the yellow bus

that carries them by so I can blow a kiss and wave

Before the school day shadows them and says ,”behave.”

And as I waited, listening for some bird or wondering

At a sea gull – a sea-way gull we’ll say in Montreal,

I looked and saw the stem.

With tiny rain beads, each a gem.

Leaves placed two by two

But one pair facing east/west and the other north/south

And safe in the bracket of the leaves, the flowers

Budding, blooming, fading, dropping off

In perfect order as they take their place

Ascending on the stem in simple grace

Yes, perfect order

What  we see as riot, chaos, random

spurts of growth,

variable, unpredictable, is perfect order.

There they were, waving from the bus

As I stood at the street corner

twirling the stem from the hedge.