Narcissus

A heart once pliable and softwith the bloom of youth stillwafting sweetness into an open mindnow hard as flint, in self absorbed,avoiding mirrors except to smash themand revel in the shardscrushed sharply under theboot of controlthe picture in the atticwears a knowing smirkdeaf to any echo but its ownneck deep in its ownenveloping paper whiteContinue reading “Narcissus”

Gladiola

Mightier than the swordthese gorgeous stalks piercememory, arranged in cutglass in the tiny London houseawaiting the return ofthe bride and groom Outlasting the tide of realitythey burst with myriadfire upward througha field of knives,spiked-guardians in silentobservation with a stabof passion at the sky Thanks for reading!

Foxglove

Fairie tricks ring the dead men’s bellsheartbeat secrets no tongue can tella thimble-full to tame the blooda double dose brings sleeping floodsto tame his madness, deaf with painimpassioned, driven, yellow-faintthe genius Dutchman’s pallet tellswhere myth meets rumor, logic failsbowing woodland hiding placeproud pink trumpets make your face There’s a VanGogh reference in this poem .Continue reading “Foxglove”

Azalea

I can still hear her voicetalking about them, bloominglike a bright gentle flowerfrom the bushes along the greens and fairwayssweet and slow as asouthern afternoon, spiced uplike the wine-soaked pork chopsand etouffet she loved to make I can still feel her hands,floral with lotion and softas butterfly’s wings, plusalmost as fragile,navigating the click ofknitting needlesContinue reading “Azalea”

Zinnia

the field is a constellation of colora vast universe dotted with petal’d starswhere harvesters buzz like beesarmed with scissorsfor take-home delightsthat don’t lastthe crystal autumn sky watcheswithout emotionthrowing down rays of dustto nourish the future,who buds in quiet industryin spite of the invading hoards This poem is about the field of zinnias at a pumpkinContinue reading “Zinnia”

Hyacinth

bittersweet early bloomerdrunk on the blood of winterswollen in the sleeping soilto thrust a graceful, frilled neckthat soaks up the delight of the sunintoxicating passers by toswoon in half-sorrow longing the perfume cuts throughthe air like an errantdiscus thrown and then struckby the jealous windso sweetness springs fromthe grave where youth fell,to sorrow-seed the fallowContinue reading “Hyacinth”