Four roses drinking from a blue vase,
the first one I name Moment of Gladness,
the second, Wresting Beauty from Fear.
All year I watched my beloved disappearing, the sweet fat
of her hips, her laughter, her will,
as though a whelk had drilled through her shell,
sucked out the flesh. Death woke me each morning
with its bird impersonation. But now she has cut
these Clouds of Glory and a honeyed musk sublimes
from their petals, veined fine as an infant’s eyelids,
and spiraling like any embryo—fish, snake, or human—
and she has carried them to me, saturated
in the colors they have not swallowed,
the blush and gold, the razzle-dazzle red, riven
from the dirt to cleave here briefly.
And now, as though to signify our fortune,
a tiny insect journeys across the kingdom
of one ivory petal and into the heart
of the blossom. O, Small Mercies sliced
from the root. I listen
as they sip the blue water.
Orion Magazine
America's Finest Environmental Magazine
https://orionmagazine.org:443/poetry/roses-2/
Comments
Yes-O-yeS. And Blue Epiphanies.
A lovely pause as we face the grim.
Thank you.
Oh WOW, that tiny ant, the kingdom of one petal, sipping the blue water. Glorious!
Yes!! Let us wrest beauty from fear. In the Old Testament humans feared God. Lets Love God. Love beauty. Reject fear.
Thanks for this.
A lovely poem with a lot of substance, too.
Such terrible beauty. As one who is mourning the death of a beloved, my heart is fed. Thanks.
razzle dazzle red. this made my morning.
beautiful poem. Ellen Bass’s most recent book is Indigo, just out this year – full of beauty and life.
“Death woke me each morning with its bird impersonation.” This flips the bird as messenger of joy. Wonderfully embodied poem.
The loneliness of the survivor and the remorse for that which is left unsaid
I can enjoy the delicate four fragrances in my mind.
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