“Do you remember at the rainbow's end
Those flowers trampled by the hurrying rain,
Hanging their heads, knowing they would not spend
Their prodigal colors again?

“Hanging their heads, you laughed, afraid to stare
Back at the boundless apathy of blue.
While arched above them in prismatic air
Their seven colors grew.

“And then, do you remember how you said
That every flower beaten to the ground
Blossoms in beds of light, and shook your head,
Half playful, half profound?

“And stooped and picked two petals suddenly
And let them fall—do you remember—so ...?”
I have forgotten. “And how you answered me?
How all the heaven flamed ... Remember?” No.