Once you picked a fistful of nasturtiums
Rambling wild along the banks of the Breede river
They filled the mouth of a brown stoneware jar
A flaming bunch: yellow, orange, red
Streaked with black
Encircled with round, veined leaves
So I would know they were for
Me
You set them on the table next to my bed
I ate a flower nipped from its juicy stem
My tongue tasted
Colour, yellow-orange-red
1971, 2014
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