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.