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winter bells

diary, last week of february, 2019.

 

catch alsophila aescularia in a mason jar.
cirrocumulus clouds above you, baby’s breath in your hair.
the sky is almost the same colour now as the persian speedwell
that’s scattered about everywhere,
and a bumblebee is hovering sleepily about bethlehem sage.
it’s the first you’ve seen this year.
set out a teaspoon of sugar water.
an unusually mild february. everything is waking up early.

*

the sun is on your shoulders.
you’ve jasmine petals in your pockets,
and winter bells helleborus, too.
watch as a blackbird plucks red berries from a holly bush,
one, after another, after another.

**

“there are snowdrop valleys and swiss mountain trains and by-the-wind sailors and sweet peas sprouting second leaves, there are children with clattering cans chasing bad spirits back into the ocean, the blackthorns are blossoming and they’re guarded by…” –

what are you going to do?

***

the sea is not a surface.
you have called the gods by their names,
and now they form within us.

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