Thursday, April 3, 2014

Flower Food

Flower Food

This is the bouquet falling into its own hands
The pink ranunculus wants to give the heaviness
of its head away

The flowers offer you the robe
their bodies become

Every day at this time in the afternoon
you think of the previous day
and in this way time is a beaded necklace

In all of this that is visible
and all that is not
who’s to say what is adornment

2 comments

  1. Wonderful images here, Hannah. I especialy like the 2nd-5th lines.

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  2. This is a terrific (and to me, spooky) elaboration on the painting. The poem is so concise, yet has such large questions looming. I'm tempted to say that for me the most intriguing, portentous part is, "Every day at this time in the afternoon / you think of the previous day." But everything after Line 1 is so pregnant and eerie that I can't pick a favorite part, not that anyone asked me to, of course. I think this is one of your best, Hannah.

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