Waiting for the Sun

Florida Sun January 2012

You are plotting like the seed in the grave.
You are the overturned grass in the fallow field.
You are buried below the roots of trees,
And you can taste the blight that threatens them,
And the sap that gives them power.
You are the blight, the roots, the sap,
And the dynamo of countless buds.
You are waiting unborn, unbound, unbegun.
With your whorled hands, with your blind eyes,
You are waiting for the sun.


Poem by Mary Clark

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s