Re: Queen Anne's Lace (Wild carrot)
- To: perennials@mallorn.com
- Subject: Re: Queen Anne's Lace (Wild carrot)
- From: m*@teamzeon.com
- Date: Tue, 6 Apr 1999 14:00:47 -0400
Betty Moorman@ZEON
04/06/99 02:00 PM
This is the poem my friend and fellow list member asked me to share with
you all. It's entitled "Queen-Ann's-Lace", by William Carlos Williams.
Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth--nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
the field by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand's span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blemish. Each part
is a blossom under his touch
to which the fibers of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over--
or nothing.
As with most poetry, and all William Carlos Williams, it's about a lot more
than Queen Anne's Lace, but, on any level, it's beautiful.
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