The dead fed you
Amid the slant stones of graveyards.
Pale ghosts who planted you
Came in the nighttime
And let their thin hair blow through your clustered stems.
You are of the green sea,
And of the stone hills which reach a long distance.
From "Lilacs" by Amy Lowell. Complete poem at Poetry Foundation.
Les Lilas, Temps Gris, Claude Monet, 1872.
(This unseasonable post was inspired by Bourbon French Lilac.)
1 comment:
A beautiful verse like that is truly seasonless, as is the painting. Thank you!
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