Saturday, 22 June 2013


All my life,
so far,
I have loved
more than one thing,

including the mossy hooves
of dreams, including'
the spongy litter
under the tall trees.

In spring
the moccasin flowers
reach for the crackling
lick of the sun

and burn down. Sometimes,
in the shadows,
I see the hazy eyes,
the lamb-lips

of oblivion,
its deep drowse,
and I can imagine a new nothing
in the universe,

the matted leaves splitting
open, revealing
the black planks
of the stairs.

But all my life--so far--
I have loved best
how the flowers rise
and open, how

the pink lungs of their bodies
enter the fore of the world
and stand there shining
and willing--the one

thing they can do before
they shuffle forward
into the floor of darkness, they
become the trees.
moccasin flowers by mary oliver


Roxana said...

you are posting mary oliver too! :-)

and the flowers, the flowers!!! i adore this post!!! (nothing surprising, i hear you laugh)

it blows me away how you composed the white flower (calla?) image, the vertical thin shape of white out of which there emerges the yellow tongue of desire... magnificent!

Marion McCready said...

The moccasin flowers - wow!

swiss said...

yes, i thought i'd continue on the flowers/mary oliver theme! the white and yellow flower is a white iris but i don't know which sort.

i'll maybe get out next week for some more,probably wild flowers this time. watch this space.

marion - thought you'd liek that!