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Wednesday, February 2, 2005

Heath Hen Meadow, Acton. Feburary, 2001.
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E.D. In Coma

In her mind, in bare feet
she is walking among

April’s first
cold
pubic violets, still

here, heaven haunted
her eyes

and lips
closed:
Soon

so soon I’ll be a part
of all that I
now merely
see

Franz Wright

posted by Michael at 6:56 am

Comments (5)

Whence that sharp, startled sense of moisture that seems to come from behind one’s eyes? Awesome beauty.

Comment by startled — February 2, 2005 @ 8:12 am
Wish I could have skiied where those footprints are. It’s a wonderful wintry scene. (But where are the pubic violets?)

Comment by rakkity — February 2, 2005 @ 10:20 am
Ask Diane, the poet in the family. She has an answer.

Twice, I read public violets.

Comment by michael — February 2, 2005 @ 10:47 am
pubic, public…makes no difference. It’s a maudlin albeit evocative depressing poem. I don’t like it. In fact E.D. is in her coma from reading one Franz Wright’s poetry. Either that or she is shielding herself from the State of the Union address. I say she wakes up and recites Green Eggs and Ham. Nice photo though. Pubic violets are no doubt underneath the poetic blanket of snow. I could only guess what Ogden Nash would do with the phrase “pubic violets”.

Comment by where's the rhyme — February 2, 2005 @ 2:57 pm
This photo from the man who claims that his skies never come out right and so he usually crops them. I hope that the sky in this photo was cropped by the camera and not by photoshop…I wish we could see more!

Comment by not afraid of the sky — February 4, 2005 @ 11:39 pm

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