Magnolia x Soulangeana Floral Deposits
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The buds that die before they blossom fall
On asphalt and the common. Even pinks,
The whispered stripes of pinks are doomed. They die
Before they get their chance to live. Fate winks
And souls are lying on the grass and path.
That path goes, gray, but far too dark a gray
To chime with pinks that light grays use as wrath
Against spring death. Buds do not know dismay:
They lie there, only, meekness that black heels
Walk over, crushing. Crushing hope is what
This March day means. Each crushed down blossom feels
No pain. It just becomes a done down blot.
The pinkness does not win the day. Beauty
Is stipulated to pay death’s duty.
~ Phillip Whidden
“And souls are lying on the grass and path.” So suddenly my heart is moved to mourn a bud. Brilliant.
That’s a good comment, Laura. Thank you. I’m glad that touched you.