Though days with C are memories in pain,
whirled in cold winds, yet spring steeps, stains again.
Truth seems now, and here, yet not far away,
beyond this solitary holiday
a paramount* anxiety impends.
Strange how in brilliant 'high noon' sun-sweat,
the palette's brooding dark: the brush intends
to show the dazzle by the silhouette.
Sitting, writing, may be struggling to ease,
attentive both to fullness and to lack;
in lapse of life a balance to express:
'the trembling of that balance' in the breeze,
the way the apple's* stippled green on black,
and dandelions shine out in darkness.
...............................
*paramount - as in Sociology's 'Paramount Reality' of earning a crust
*apple as in apple tree
..
YOU ARE READING
Bare Shouldered
Poetry"The difference of high Sensations with and without knowledge appears to me this - in the latter case we are falling continually ten thousand fathoms deep and being blown up again without wings and with all [the] horror of a bare shouldered Creature...
