Chrysanthemums

Chrysanthemums
by Theodora Goss

These are the ragged flowers
present at every gravesite.

Imagine a cloud of petals
like a ruffled cockatoo,
like a slice of wedding cake
with the narrow end eaten,
a pile of lace with leaves
as tough as a toad’s skin,
smelling of aniseed.
We give these to the dead.

As they go into the darkness,
the heads of chrysanthemums
must light their way, like lamps.

Bouquet of Chrysanthemums by Pierre-Auguste Renoir

(The painting is Bouquet of Chrysanthemums by Pierre-Auguste Renoir. The poem is from my collection Songs for Ophelia.)

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s