Posts Tagged ‘peony’




Sometimes defensiveness

has lovely side effects. A tree,

for instance, produces resin to heal

a wound caused by insects or fungi.

Golden and aromatic,

the sticky ooze protects the tree

from disease and injury

and eventually might transform

into amber.

But that takes millions of years.

And happens only after damage is done.


Another choice, I tell myself,

another choice is to do

what the peony bud does—

create nectar for ants

so they will invade it, and then,

using genuine sweetness

to make friends,

accepting the protection they offer.

Read Full Post »



            (with thanks to Donnalee for the peony buds)



Sitting with the peony

whatever is red in me reddens

and whatever in me is fist

loosens its grip

and whatever was sorrow

finds no mirror

and whatever is grateful

becomes fragrant

and I don’t even think

to remember

it won’t last forever,

all I know is


sweet nectar.



Read Full Post »




That peony, full bloom

and all honey perfume,

by the time she walks

in the front door again

she’ll have remembered

how to be dandelion,

her feet taprooted

to the kitchen floor,

her face common gold,

her hands soft rubbery green.

This soil only grows

what it knows to grow.

At night she dreams in pink.

Read Full Post »

no blooms—
still, through a round door
sweet scent of peonies

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: