anonyrrie

wild carrot

"Queen-Anne's Lace" - William Carlos Williams

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.

 

celebrate

 

Solitude is independence. - Hermann Hesse

 

There are ways...

to make of the moment 

a topiary
so the pleasure’s in

walking through.

"Flirtation" - Rita Dove

 

before it rained

 

secret garden

 

long ago and far away...

 

same day, different sun

 

entering light

If I could
hold light
in my hand

I would
give it
to you

and watch it
become
your shadow.

                                                "Present Light" - Charles Ghigna

 

leaving there too soon

Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain
With the barkers and the colored balloons,
You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain
Though you're thinking that
You're leaving there too soon,
You're leaving there too soon

"Sugar Mountain" - Neil Young