Doubly-stalked,
a crown of flowers,
pale green at center
ending in creamy
white. Your petals
so delicate,
your veins shimmer
with crystals.
Named for a shepherdess,
you look lamb-soft
and tender-tame.
At the base of your
sunshine-colored
stamen, something liquid
has secreted,
some secret
nectar for a god.
Perhaps you’re
scentless
for safety,
for who knows
what the gods would do
to possess you?
Read more:
Carol Berg’s poems are forthcoming or in Gyroscope, Crab Creek Review (Poetry Finalist 2017), DMQ Review, Hospital Drive (Contest Runner-Up 2017), Sou’wester, Spillway, Redactions, Radar Poetry, Verse Wisconsin. Her chapbooks, Her Vena Amoris (Red Bird Chapbooks), and “Self-Portraits” in Ides (Silver Birch Press) are available. Her manuscript, An Accidental Species, was a finalist in the Four Way Books Levis Prize in Poetry. She was winner of a scholarship to Poets on the Coast and a recipient of a Grant from the Massachusetts Cultural Council.
Latest posts by Carol Berg (see all)
- Perimenopausal - 27th February 2023
- Love Poem to an Amaryllis - 2nd December 2022