Poppies

Poppies

The markets of the poppies are closing.
The blossoms whirl inward, 
Like boys alone with their stepfathers. 

In the markets of the poppies
You can buy poppies
And only poppies.

But not until tomorrow,
When the markets of the poppies
Will open again, like boys

After they’ve been dropped
Off at school.
A poppy is like a boy

Laughing at recess,
But in it are the black seeds
Of a man’s loneliness.