shadow

The Emily Dickinson lilies

Common lemon lilies, butter yellow, wax and multiply by my woodpile, slips taken from Emily's garden. I see her in their pale flames. Her writing still startles, intricate as petals worked into form, individual as blooms that last one day, send their fragrance in the world.... Carved from sun, these citron lilies shine, a yellow flight; her writing burns, an act of light.

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