i
The rose beds
I recalled had gone –
instead you could discern
their remnant outlines;
verdant and sad
as unmarked graves.
ii
Not knowing what to do
I rested here, among
the bees and daisies
woven in the grass;
until the afternoon
was long in tooth.
iii
Venus had veered south
when I was roused,
to find a figure
standing by my side.
She asked if I was ready
– Yes, I lied.
vi
Red buds amassed
and gently bled,
like bleeding hearts
on arching stems:
These, I was told
were manifold regrets.
x
My love is sweet
as rowan berries
after the first frost;
but there is no way
in or out, until
you believe in one.
The full poem is also available to read in my pamphlet, Wish (Maytree Press)
Hi, Kat I’m vaguely aware of Dante – and I’m resisting looking him up, so that your poem does its work on me by itself. And it does work beautifully. I would be more than happy to add the poem to OWP (there’s space in the November issue) but you might like to launch it to find its way in the wider world, & maybe save me as a backstop.
I’d be interested to learn how & when you came to Dante & Beatrice, should you have time to drop me a few lines.
XXX c
Sent from my iPhone
>
Dear Charles, of course you can have it for OWP, with my gratitude and much love. XK