Don Share’s poem “Spiced” appeared in NER 20.3 (1999)and later in the collection Union (Zoo Press, 2002):
That day I held my head in my hands,
crouching on the dry soil
of what had been our garden,
and you seemed to tower over me, the way
the sunflower lords itself over mint:
head sternly bent, supple, transient,
while I fell uprooted across the flagstones.
Things that we see as ornamental
grow fundamental, like the leaves
and wild blossoms withering on the lawn