Fewer Desires

I feel some things less intensely

than when I tarried near the front

and my listless old smile

and bitter knowledge of what was

          has gone away

carried with it as it crossed

what I feared, and much

          of what I desired.

There are few things left to desire;

a yellow and fragrant rose bush

          outside my window

or perhaps gardenias

          and night-blooming jasmine.