Nature rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets—
Prodigal of blue,
Spending scarlet like a woman,
Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
Like a lover’s words.
Photo by Earl Spiece, Crosby Arboretum, Picayune, MS
Related Posts
The Music
A novel through sound Prelude It’s three-thirty in the morning and we’re far underground in one of the deepest trenches of the Pacific Ocean. A hole has been drilled down through the ocean floor and a…
Joy
Joy shakes me like the wind that lifts a sail,Like the roistering windThat laughs through stalwart pines.It floods me like the sunOn rain-drenched treesThat flash with silver and green.I abandon myself to joy—I laugh—I sing.Too long…
It sifts from leaden sieves
It sifts from leaden sieves, It powders all the wood, It fills with alabaster wool The wrinkles of the road. It makes an even face Of mountain and of plain, — Unbroken forehead from the east…