Produced by Dennis Camire

This week’s poem is by Lisa Moore of Harrison, leader of the Mountain Poets Society.

 

Queen Anne in Winter

By Lisa Moore

 

Each flower is a hand’s span

of her whiteness. Wherever

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his hand has lain there is

a tiny purple blemish.

 

William Carlos Williams

“Queen-Anne’s Lace”

 

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Come October, I watch Queen Anne change face.

 

She hunches, her stalk brittle, her roots dry.

A musty gray tarnishes the lace

That she has been crocheting since July.

 

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At night, the harsh winds hush.

Mild breezes stir a memory of whiteness worn

In August’s lush and clover-tangled bed

Where she billowed with desire, blind and wild,

Inebriate of air and full of grace.

 

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The blemish fades. She tucks her head.

She closes in as if she holds a child,

For hold she must.

As she waits to die and then to be reborn,

In winter’s mirror, she sees her daughter’s face.

 

Dennis Camire can be reached at dcamire@cmcc.edu