Geranium growing

There is something of a pregnant woman
in that year of her life
of slow, powerful suspension
in geranium's swollen burgeons

day after day, patient because ready,
through cuts that also speak of briskness
already revealing their future
they wait on their graceful stems that leave me blushing
sometimes, at certain mood and weather,
as there is also something of a man

and like a woman sensing what is yet to happen
in a year of her life when she hurries home
and like a man still and silent, knowing
that his desire is to be fulfilled
I think of those buds

and then sometimes when I am out
I breath in dropping of the temperature
and fear for them at their crucial time
and fear the punishment