Sunlight makes a home here, turns these tall stalks
to a May haze. Intricate,
after dull warty dock, white foam
appearing year on year
like half-remembered lines in sleep
Gnats, furious after the mild winter
swarm above its whiteness, brush my face and hair
hoverflies settle on upturned parasols of flower-heads
- dipping, quivering details.
And I'm alive to its white noise, a cloud
which barely stirs in river-breeze
a lightness that won't be cut or kept in vases
swathing each side of the towpath on the Thames.
I want to run a hand through it, this thickened air.
Grasp what it is that makes of love
a weed so ordinary and rare.
Cow Parsley by Isabel Bermudez | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
