My pain has removed [My pain has added to] my one sense of self - but without pain how would I work? I gather more fallen blossoms & count out what has been dropped / My chance crop sucks space into trees [No shade today over my splitting back] There is no held scent & my arms ache with such weighty petals / All you see is beauty's opportunity in vases - They'd look great here! But I cannot grip their rough stems to make studied arrangements / So I work & fall again