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norm-deplumePoems
an edge, the Double facet becomes a gEometry-- but each petAl ends in     But if it enDs but love is at an End--of roses               cementiNg the grooved                        colD, precise, touching                columnS of air--The edge Crisp, worked to deFeat      cuts without cuttIng                             edGe and the                            figUred in majolica--         from it--neitheR hanging     From the petal's Edge a line starts     glazed with A rose                               infiniteLy fine, infinitely                                       It Is at the edge of the itself in metal or porcelaiN--           laboredness--fragilE     makes copper roses          meets--nothing--renews            nor pushing--          penetrates space                        petal that love waits              plucked, moist, half-raised               rigid penetrates       Sharper, neater, more cutting so that to engage roses   Somewhere the sense                steel roses--             that being of steel           the broken plate The fragility of the flower            the Milky Way The place between the petal’s         The rose carried weight of love        The rose is obsolete         the start is begun      unbruised     What whither? It ends— without contact--lifting
0
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
a·be·ce·dar·i·an ro·se
an edge, the Double facet becomes a gEometry-- but each petAl ends in     But if it enDs but love is at an End--of roses               cementiNg the grooved                        colD, precise, touching                columnS of air--The edge Crisp, worked to deFeat      cuts without cuttIng                             edGe and the                            figUred in majolica--         from it--neitheR hanging     From the petal's Edge a line starts     glazed with A rose                               infiniteLy fine, infinitely                                       It Is at the edge of the itself in metal or porcelaiN--           laboredness--fragilE     makes copper roses          meets--nothing--renews            nor pushing--          penetrates space                        petal that love waits              plucked, moist, half-raised               rigid penetrates       Sharper, neater, more cutting so that to engage roses   Somewhere the sense                steel roses--             that being of steel           the broken plate The fragility of the flower            the Milky Way The place between the petal’s         The rose carried weight of love        The rose is obsolete         the start is begun      unbruised     What whither? It ends— without contact--lifting
#williamcarloswilliams#abecedarian
norm-deplume
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norm-deplume
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
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