Like the spring clover his life came,

one among many, a brother.

The sun and new moon and dancing

bees all glimmered on his flowering.

Some days the rain fell, awakening

the grass in rich green, and feeding

the hidden tentacles of weeds.

And when in the heat the clover turned brown

he shared in their suffering, and daily

as more of the field darkened,

his tears lay fresh on the ground.