For day 11 of napowrimo and day 5 of #the100dayproject, I was inspired by my experience in Seville, Spain at the palace of #Alcazar
I couldn't resist including a picture I took back in December 2019 of one of the garden gates. I still can't believe that I was in Spain hardly 4 months ago and so much of the world has changed. There have now been more than 16,000 deaths in Spain alone. It saddens me how quickly things have moved and worsened. I hope this poem finds you healthy and well. I wish you the very best.
The Palace
in Seville
I walked
through the gate into the garden,
the myrtle
plucked and trimmed
into neat
hedges, unbloomed; sun warmed
resin
sifting through the labyrinths of its branches.
The myrtle
surrounded by fences
as if to
contain its fragrance;
pith of
orange; zest of lemon;
coyness of night
blooming jasmine.
The whole
garden built to hold it,
to keep it
as long as possible,
but like
sand sliding down a glass vial
or love slipping
between my fingers,
its perfume maddening that I could not
cup it, each
small leaf I plucked
was a shadow
I could not capture;
the scent banished only to memory.
Posts
Lovely.
ReplyDeleteEnjoying all your work.
Thank you Tressa
Deleteah, an unpleasant turn at the end. but is not the memory a gift? and is that fragrance not present here in your poem? i think it is.
ReplyDeleteThank you Erbiage!
DeleteOften unspoken about flowers is how ephemeral they are. Your focus on this applying to their scent rather than their color or form is a wonderfully originally approach.
ReplyDeletepith of orange; zest of lemon;
ReplyDeletecoyness of night blooming jasmine. Such a lovely description.