Poetry Sunday: More Than Enough
Summer is officially with us now, although it arrived unofficially where I live several weeks ago. And with summer comes a wealth of blossoms and berries and seeds: "Season of joy for the bee. The green will never again be so green, so purely and lushly new..."
I think Marge Piercy has caught the spirit of summer, the spirit of plenty, perfectly.
I think Marge Piercy has caught the spirit of summer, the spirit of plenty, perfectly.
More Than Enough
by Marge Piercy
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The first lily of June opens its red mouth.
All over the sand road where we walk
multiflora rose climbs trees cascading
white or pink blossoms, simple, intense
the scene drifting like colored mist.
The arrowhead is spreading its creamy
clumps of flower and the blackberries
are blooming in the thickets. Season of
joy for the bee. The green will never
again be so green, so purely and lushly
new, grass lifting its wheaty seedheads
into the wind. Rich fresh wine
of June, we stagger into you smeared
with pollen, overcome as the turtle
laying her eggs in roadside sand.
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