o the joys
of not quite put-together –
crumbling at the seems, frankly
til friendship brings
the whole incompleteness
of a bulb, its buried sugars
in tubrous wintry stew
we root as rain falls
and brush this papery carapace
with careful tips
of long new leaves who reach
for spring. none yet know
what manner petals will
overlap and furling open
for o to be perennial
to dormant and renew
is to live delight
even in a wintry garden