Monday, April 22, 2013

national poetry month, day 22.

For Kaitlyn, who asked for H.D.

by H.D.

The light passes
from ridge to ridge,
from flower to flower --
the hepaticas, wide-spread
under the light
grow faint --
the petals reach inward,
the blue tips bend
towards the bluer heart
and the flowers are lost.

The cornel-buds are still white,
but shadows dart
from the cornel-roots --
black creeps from root to root,
each leaf
cuts another leaf on the grass,
shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost.

1 comment:

Kbarrett said...

It feels like Spring, which isn't here quite yet. But soon? God willing.