Fields full of poppy heads
Bobbing in a hot breeze.
Full of tiny dark seeds.
Her fine dark brow.
Her empty eyes.
Full of poppy smoke.
A shroud of sweet smoke,
In a red room.
Her servant stroked her limp white hand.
In a room of full sweet poppy smoke
Heavy dark curls,
Blanche her face.
Aching slips to an opiate peace.
Poppy sweet peace.