ALOE FLOWER

Subtle palette of untrue colours;
Soft orange, too timid to blaze;
Tints for the fringe of the desert,
That blench and blend in the haze.

You belong where the sun-dried sepias
Falter in the bleaching light;
Citizen of sand and pebbles
Where the desert threatens: dry! blight!

Awkward blue-grey of leaves and stem,
Like bottle-green, betrayed;
Purse-lipped flowers, tipped with green,
Clutch nectar. There’s no shade.

Clinging, in the hot savannah,
Like sculptures, those strange leaves curled;
Tough; leathery; wrung waterskins;
Hostile in a hostile world.

Hues of the wild open spaces,
Where hyenas howl in the hills
And the sand is harsh in the sunlight,
Flower on our windowsills.