Wednesday, June 17, 2015

"The Flower," by Robert Creeley

"Meadow Flowers--Red Campion Set," by Anna Wiscombe

The Flower
by Robert Creeley

I think I grow tensions
like flowers
in a wood where
nobody goes.

Each wound is perfect,
encloses itself in a tiny
imperceptible blossom,
making pain.

Pain is a flower like that one,
like this one,
like that one,
like this one.

[Poem text via]

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