Thursday, May 10, 2012

Shadbush In May \ Full May Moon

Nancy:  Shadbush – shadblow – sugar pear – rarely on lists of “must have” ornamentals.  But we who live with it love it.
Shadbush In May
Because every road
every hillside
every streambank
every shoreline
every dooryard
every woods’ edge
froths and foams
we talk to strangers
at the gas pumps
at the postoffice
at the cash register
at the lunch counter
did you
have you
isn’t it
up my way
out by East Stream
for a whole week
no wind
no rain
the flowers last
no one remembers anything like it
oh, we say, oh
we talk to strangers
Alan:  Every Spring it seems, for one magical night, the shadbush have the world, and the lovesick moon, all to themselves.   
Full May Moon
This night
in the old fields
in the rough fields
in the lost fields
every sugarpear tree
stands up
spreads its arms wide
like a child wearing a sheet,
tilts its head back,
mouths, “Oooooo...”
Tomorrow, they’ll hold baskets
of tiny pink shells, cages
demure with pale butterflies:
tomorrow – for a week.
Then they’ll green; then,
for a moment, crimson;
then, when children
in towns and villages and suburbs
roam house to house begging for sweets,
they’ll take off their clothes, slowly,
under another open-mouthed moon,
whispering, “Oooooo...”
“Shadbush In May” first appeared in Fencing Wildness (Slow Dancer Press, 1999)

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