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June sun turns the risen yellow globe
to lost wax, the curling tongues of leaves
to rotten lace into the overlapping water.
The proud, bossed chalice falls
back on itself, spends its melted-down
gold, lays bare a wholly different vessel:
a calabash of rough and solid green.
:-) So wonderful! The poem especially. "Bossed" is so exactly right.
ReplyDeletemakes me miss our pond...
ReplyDeleteFor all their apparent sturdiness, water lilies seem to tremble on the edge of decrepitude.
ReplyDeleteWater Lily
ReplyDeleteThe way you stretch through
from the pond shine to muddy
root and back again
to splay out bright signs
demanding touch by fertile
motes who gladly dive
toward your sweet heart,
the way you show me your light
strips me to my joy.
You really do take beautiful pictures.
ReplyDeleteI like the images you built in the poem: 'lost wax' 'rotten lace' 'overlapping water' 'calabash' (great word to say!)
I love the textures and colors of your photos and poems. The flower is another world within ours.
ReplyDeleteAnd the poppy collage below is delicious.
Lucy, this one cries out to be read aloud ... calabash ... thanks for that word early this morning!
ReplyDeleteI like "bossed" as well. And that's a little buddha calabash, sitting on its spent sepals (or whatever they are!)
ReplyDeleteGood on you for the close-ups. Meanwhile I am going away to write The Song of the Calabash Collectors. "Under the calabash palms they wait to catch the gourds as they fall through the air..."
ReplyDeleteThanks all for lovely comments!
ReplyDeleteThe yellow water lilies are too much for a small pond like ours, these were in a lake inland from here we visited one very hot day earlier this month.
Got my sister her just now, so I'll be a bit scarce for a while...