Bastard Flowers

WEEDS
—Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)
   
White with daisies and red with sorrel
  

   And empty, empty under the sky!—


Life is a quest and love a quarrel—
   

   Here is a place for me to lie.

Daisies spring from damnèd seeds,
   

   And this red fire that here I see


Is a worthless crop of crimson weeds,
   

   Cursed by farmers thriftily. 

But here, unhated for an hour,
   

   The sorrel runs in ragged flame,


The daisy stands, a bastard flower,
  

   Like flowers that bear an honest name.

And here a while, where no wind brings
   

    The baying of a pack athirst,


May sleep the sleep of blessèd things,
   

   The blood too bright, the brow accurst.

______________________

—Medusa,  reminding you to set your clocks forward one hour today  (patch.com/california/newark/when-does-daylight-saving-time-begin-2020-california)  ~ If you don’t, you might miss Joshua McKinney’s reading at Poets Club of Lincoln (including open mic), Twelve Bridges Library, 485 Twelve Bridges Dr. in Lincoln. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

 Red-Veined Sorrel

"The Sorrel runs in ragged flame..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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