November 2, 2023

After Sappho

And what about the white lily
veined with black?

And the texture
of the white rose?

Helios, Athena,
I remember the white pear-branch,
the fragrance

feminine, luminous--

Vermillion sparks
and winds of mockery;
upturn god of a serpent’s tongue--

Where does the body come into it?

And consciousness,
where is it?

I remember the spring hyacinth
and narcissus;

I close my eyes to see more clearly

Where is the youthful laity
of a thousand herbs, a thousand grasses.

Tell me where does beauty sprout
among these knotted weeds?

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A Journal of International Poetry
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