Lilies at Dusk
Their petals move slowly
drawing in the warm wind,
deep in their roots, they feel the light,
as they sway so close to the fence,
smooth and deceptive, anthers
about to release the gold powder,
dusting the ground as it grows dark,
and back in the house,
as I look through the raised window,
at the first sight of a scarred moon
through whitewashed glass,
white, and wan,
their musky smell seems even stronger.
Soft luminescent fingers,
little clients of suddenness,
lilies short lived and elegiac,
seeds long gone into a burning silence.
JUDITH HARRIS is the author of Atonement and The Bad Secret (LSU) and Night Garden (Tiger Bark) and two critical books, Signifying Pain: Constructing and Healing the Self through Language (SUNY Press) and The Poetry of Loss: Romantic and Contemporary Elegies (Routledge Press). Read more.