Buffalos and Chrysanthemums

I am tracking down an unknown poet.
The girl turned woman at twenty-three
Blossoming out words of love and
Buffalos and chrysanthemums.

As you can see, I am no wordsmith or poet or any of that. When you see the burgeoning of genius, it's the closest thing to experiencing a miracle. That's what I think.

I went to the lunch poem series at UC Berkeley today and if you were in attendance and know this poet's name, forward her name to me. But what are the chances? I didn't even catch the title of the piece. I only clipped part of a butterfly's wing and marvel at its colors.