Deep in the Heart
The patient roses that stayed in the wood
for who knows how long
till someone came like a prince with a chisel
to let them out fully bloomed perfect
and from something not even rosewood at that
loop around my shoulders
on the high edge of the red Italian chair
like a great collar with a rim of fur
my two hands on garlands
We are becoming more patient together
They having become what they wanted
in full relief and beetle-free carved out
long ago from something not even wood
read under the yellow light of roses
from the filigree lamp like a dust of pollen
The book is Guide to the Flowers
How to be fertile at will
be run over by days and days with the weight of light
How to enter willingly the surface of the dinnerware
How to take up the bees with a gratefulness
How to be patient as if I was sitting down
deep in the heart of wood not yet a chair
awaiting a cool and informative knife
by Allan Peterson
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Qarrtsiluni (2005-2013) was a groundbreaking online literary magazine, one of the first to fully exploit blog software. Though we never quite realized our dream of creating a print-on-demand option for each issue, being online does mean that our back issues remain accessible indefinitely, so there's that. And we published some damn fine stuff — check it out.
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Gorgeous. Well read, too.
Awesome, just awesome. Gives one goosebumps, and that’s the highest praise. Thank you!
Yes, this is a terrific poem, one of the best of the issue. Thanks.
What a beautifully-conceived and wrought poem, Allan. Thank you.
Thank you, responders.
I agree goosebumps (and chills) are high praise, too seldom mentioned as critical indicators. I’m grateful.
Beautiful.