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Click hereI have seen the cherry blossoms grow and
wax then
fall
or drift and laugh in
tumbled flight
over the petalled air and
I
have seen
the honeyed blade cleave butterflies
with its sere cut scything
four wings into pairs, well
not seen it is
a puzzle of light the
stroke of no mind takes
no time, the
eye
cannot frame its stillness, I
have spent this lifetime
scrying the waxing year for the perfect
blossom
but it
eludes me still
-30-
Kingston, Ontario, July 23, 2004
A waxing year that lasts a lifetime! A joyful poem, despite the frustration.
...and beautiful. Your words can move like tiny, summer breezes and are quite stunning at times. You and I have never discussed line breakage, and spacing. I would like to do that. You do some startling things that usually seem to work, things I would never even consider. Wonderful poem, JC.
I am confused about the use of the word "waxing" other than that, reading this is truly humbling, haunting me with the realization that I could never match the economy, the imagery.
I feel inadequate even commenting.
The eyes (I's) have it. I like this poem, I see it as a wistful plea for happiness.
I don't use the thermometer.
I don't use the rating thermometers.
My perkspective on your poem is posted in the poetry forum on the new poems thread.