|You can see why it is called a flame lily.|
AFRICAN FLAME LILY
Sudden, unannounced, water in my eye,
A tear springs in betrayal.
I cry for I do not know what, except that I have lost
And looking now at an old photograph am taken somewhere
To an origin, to a flame lily in December grass stems.
It weeps colour, memory beneath a bandaged English winter.
When absences carve holes,
Do bulbs and tubers, seeds and roots
Fill in for me those places where I no longer am,
Where only shadows now remind me of their passing
And the numbers uncounted clocks have leaked?
A mother’s face alight,
Shining with the cut stems of flowers in a vase,
I remember now.
Those walks beside the railway tracks
That gleamed long with longing the distances of past
And bearing bunches, bright red and yellow homeward,
That abundance of gifts my now empty hands so miss
Here is a link Bart Wolffe Poetry for more of Bart's work:
|The the Flame Lily Brooch (sometimes also called the Rhodesian Flame Lily).|
|I think it may be a favoured piece. What do you think?|
|for the "Whenwes"|