More gardens. This one’s from Mouth to Mouth, Poems by Twelve Contemporary Mexican Women, edited by Forrest Gander.
from Lost Garden / by Myriam Moscona, b. 1955, trans. by C.D. Wright and Lida Aronne-Amestoy
Black tulips give up the ground that lodges their roots.
More gardens. This is from the book, French Symbolist Poetry, trans. by CF MacIntyre.
from Prose / by Stephane Mallarme b. 1842
at this hour when we are still,
that too tall for reason grows
the stalk of multiple asphodels
More flowers. This one’s in American Poets, The Journal of the Academy of American Poets, Spring-Summer 2014. And, it’s from his book, The Mercy. More here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/philip-levine
from Northern Motive / by Philip Levine b. 1928
little, delicate white jump-ups that open for
only a few hours, live their lives, turn to dust
before the day ends
More gardens, from Romania. This is from her book, 47 Poems.
from Spring / by Flavia Cosma trans. by Don D. Wilson
I still linger to look
At the white isolation about the garden
And the new bees’ swarming flight
More gardening, flowers. More here and here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/labor-tulip
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/karen-volkman
from Labor as a Tulip / by Karen Volkman b.1967
Labor as a tulip
arrays its flame, nu
form, as the bulb-star,
interred
More gardening. And, more here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/garden-bees
from A Garden of Bees / by Matthew Rohrer b. 1970
I buy the poem from the garden
of bees for one euro.
This week, gardens. More on Linda Pastan, here and here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/happo-en-garden-Tokyo
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/linda-pastan
from In the Happo-En Garden, Tokyo / by Linda Pastan b. 1932
Perhaps Eden is buried
here in Japan
Last for weather for now. Our California State Poet Laureate from 2008-2011! Maybe gardens next week. More here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/octave-above-thunder
from An Octave Above Thunder / by Carol Muske-Dukes b. 1945
Here were the words of the Blind Poet–
crumpled like wash for the line, to be
dried, pressed flat.
from Snow-bound: A Winter Idyll / by John Greenleaf Whittier
More weather, maybe. I take it to be sun, maybe, so, a sunny day. This one’s from the book, Villanelles. Ophelia, I love. And, Cordelia. Lovely villanelle.
from Ophelia: A Wreath / by Ned Balbo b.1959
Water like glass unbroken, silent stream
Of glitterings, sky-fallings.
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