Thursday, December 27, 2012

Persimmons. How do persimmons inspire a Solstice poem?

Persimmons are like words.
They come when the season is ready.

Winter Solstice, 2012

Light crackles dark, dark gathers
whispers at the rim.

Season assumes perfect
shape. Pomegranates/persimmons persist

in cerulean bowl among the unseen, calm.

Why now does she recall Grandmother saying,
“More circles than boxes in this world, child.”

Striking a match
what does she now know?

Light/dark inseparable,
one actress plays all roles.

Certainly the ripe curves.
Perhaps, new pages to be turned.

1 comment:

  1. Notes for Concentricity paintings

    All eternity wobbly--
    Circles fabricate a chasm
    through which panic and the profane
    must pass-- a cleansing, a funny dizzy sound