Let me tell you of the earth’s fair flowers She blooms, one thousand years. The loveliest weeds as well, Struck down by winds of scent, Whispering happiness, not despair. Plucked sweetness escapes from blooms, Light on cheek to chill or warm, In between caress— Week beats like tired feet, in This silent scream of the sun. When I have resurrected the calm, I grow upon the muted stones That leaped beyond shadows. Beyond blaring skies, the berry-bays, Flatter while I dance— they gild, The drop-down of ornament colors— The tang of fragrance, that I am in love With each petal of yourself. Your heartbeat Rekindles green beneath me, sweet, Each moment wings through the fabric of you— Drifting in earth’s wilderness!

• Hilda Doolittle