Out of Season

A thank-you for a simple lunch
in June, a sunlit garden day:
a uniformly yellow bunch
of tulips, awkward, with a way
of staying up-right, nervous, tight,
and closed and clenched as unused locks,
huddled, unseasonal, a sight
like gawky girls in the wrong frocks.

D.A. Prince

If you have any comments on this poem, D. A. Prince would be pleased to hear them.