Based on La Rêverie by Renoir.

Jeanne

Who would believe that dew drops could birth dimples
or that the hope of spring
could stir the lily that is
my daughter?
The water
to a forget-me-not field,
reaching towards the sun, with the gleam of its warmth in her eyes.
My surprise,
when in seasons I carried her smile-
her rose-kissed cheeks and leafing limbs,
bearing a name
that means ‘God is gracious’
and kissed my head with the favor of a love I learned.
Before Jeanne, I burned
in the garden where now, I raise rosalias.

-Amy Struthers