Thursday, August 29, 2013

quickly things grow, wilt, go

Amber Schley Iragui, © 2013

O U T   O F   W A T E R
by Marie Ponsot
A new embroidery of flowers, canary color,
                        dots the grass already dotty
                        with aster-white and clover.

I warn, “They won’t last, out of water.”
The children pick some anyway.

In or out of  water
children don’t last either.

I watch them as they pick.
Still free of  what’s next
            and what was yesterday
they pick today.
From Springing: New and Selected Poems by Marie Ponsot, copyright © 2002 by Marie Ponsot.

1 comment:

Julia said...

I am really missing the days of blogging regularity but I love finding something new on your blog when I'm not expecting it. This is a great poem.