Heracleum lanatum (Cow Parsnip)
The flowers seem whiter this summer,
more delicate than I remember:
drops of ethereal blood,
the umbels an onionskin tracing
set down with a fine-tipped pen.
What else might I miss in this life—
how many days have I not seen the sky,
soft rags of clouds shining up the blue,
their shadows tumbling casually
over the mountains, while disillusion
like a dark flame burned
my mind's petty length.
I'm tired of human clamor,
smudge and clutter of the world.
Who wants to go on
governed by the same rude horns,
the demagogues, the rabble?
Let the culture fall to its own cravings;
I'm taking up with things divine:
leaf-filter, sheath and fiber,
stalks so tall they often lean
but determine to grow taller,
that ask for only the rain's thin coins,
the soil's nutrient and a decent light.
Anne Coray’s debut novel Lost Mountain was published in 2021 with West Margin Press. Read more.
"Heracleum lanatum" originally appeared in Bone Strings (Scarlet Tanager Books).