The Muse sent me the second half of a poem.
So, I asked her for a beginning.
She continued to refuse this beginning
because she knows I am seeking a major beginning,
...
My favourite holly in the castle
grew outside the Douglas Garden,
softening the large, bare courtyard
and attracting songbirds in winter.
...
for Larry Butler
A slight smirr of rain.
blows on and off as weather trails
...
Cats lie in squares of shade
under the chairs beside
a pond - no one to watch
when golden frogs, black toads
...
Lutyens:
Gertrude Jekyll -
can you make me a garden
...
She probes the wintry weather, her voice oiled
and golden, warns of the violet-hued storm,
reports the deluge flooding yard and lawn
like a spring haiku thawing icicles.
...
A poet named this new colossus.
The service station told me, 'You can't miss it.'
Miles away, it seemed less than a pylon.
...
The dandelion clocks are closed.
A stir of wind will open them
and April showers will weigh them down
to wet flock, their pink hollow stems
...
Too early
for the first daffodils -
December snows are banished
by dyed and glitter-strewn chrysanthemums,
...
Who owns Plath?
Faber, the Feminists or Hughes,
or Otto Plath?
Whose are her pennings, whose
...