by Ron Salutsky
My friend the heroin addict & recovering Catholic
used to cross herself after she tied off
and when the redluscious bloodflower bloomed
in the syringe’s vial–stem
Ave Maria pues, she said,
I love you to whoever was there
before her eyes rolled up and closed.
Her moon is purple
with tiny, iridescent crucifixes
in its border
and it’s so much beautiful.
Last Friday the first thing I saw
in morbid Anthem Estates as the work truck turned a corner
toward the job site was a San Pedro Cactus
beginning its bloom day — the one day
of the year
it presents its off–white blossom. I thought of you
and wished you a happy bloom day. Right now,
the daffodils are everywhere back home
and I miss the forsythia.