So yellow, so open now—
as though the evening primroses
had soaked in morning’s heat
and saved it for the darkest
hours of night.
What do they have
to teach me of grasping and letting go?
Even the bee is forced to make its visits
cloaked in the dressing-gown of dusk.
The claw-shaped shadows cross
like weapons; retract, and yet remain.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
“Even the bee is forced to make its visits
cloaked in the dressing-gown of dusk.”
Love that.
The last four lines complete the excellent imagery that leads to the poem’s point. Poetry. Bravo, L.
‘What do they have
to teach me of grasping and letting go?’
Beautiful. I went out this morning and found a patch of them, which brought this back.
OK if I quote and link?
Lucy, I would be thrilled to be quoted and linked on your beautiful blog. :) (Say, are you on FB?) xo Luisa
It would be fun to talk to Lucy and Luisa on fb!
I like this one as well…
Oh good, just put the pictures together.
Sorry, no FB!