wild carrot

“Queen-Anne’s Lace” – William Carlos Williams

Bud

Her body is not so white as
anemony petals nor so smooth—nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
the field by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand’s span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blemish. Each part
is a blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over—
or nothing.

Lace

Ab11 

celebrate

Lanterns
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Singular
Solitude is independence. – Hermann Hesse

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There are ways…

Flare and flower

to make of the moment

a topiary
so the pleasure’s in

walking through.

“Flirtation” – Rita Dove

Ab11 

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