A speaker tends her garden with elaborate care, addressing a beloved who is conspicuously absent—the “Bright Absentee.” She catalogs her flowers in vivid, almost tactile detail: fuchsia seams rip, geraniums tint, cactus splits its beard to reveal a throat. The imagery feels quietly sensual in how the blooms offer themselves. But the lively scene deflates when she admits the person isn’t there. She declares she’d rather the globe roses never broke their satin gloss, that no more crimson appear. The poem pivots to renunciation. She resolves to dwell in a gray calyx, draping herself modestly like a daisy—faithful, subdued, still devoted. The shift from abundant color to hushed restraint captures the ache of love in absence: the world blooms on, but without the beloved, she chooses a quieter, more solemn beauty.
I tend my flowers for thee — Summary
I tend my flowers for thee -- Bright Absentee! My Fuchsia's Coral Seams Rip -- while the Sower -- dreams --
Geraniums -- tint -- and spot -- Low Daisies -- dot -- My Cactus -- splits her Beard To show her throat --
Carnations -- tip their spice -- And Bees -- pick up -- A Hyacinth -- I hid -- Puts out a Ruffled Head -- And odors fall From flasks -- so small -- You marvel how they held --
Globe Roses -- break their satin glake -- Upon my Garden floor -- Yet -- thou -- not there -- I had as lief they bore No Crimson -- more --
Thy flower -- be gay -- Her Lord -- away! It ill becometh me -- I'll dwell in Calyx -- Gray -- How modestly -- alway -- Thy Daisy -- Draped for thee!