The light passes from ridge to ridge, from flower to flower— the hepaticas, wide—spread under the light

Are you alive? I touch you. You quiver like a sea—fish. I cover you with my net. What are you —banded one?

The mysteries remain, I keep the same cycle of seed—time and of sun and rain; Demeter in the grass,

White, O white face— from disenchanted days wither alike dark rose and fiery bays: no gift within our hands,

Each of us like you has died once, has passed through drift of wood—l… cracked and bent and tortured and unbent

Hymen, O Hymen king, what bitter thing is this? what shaft, tearing my heart? what scar, what light, what fire searing my eye—balls and my eyes w…

Where the slow river meets the tide, a red swan lifts red wings and darker beak, and underneath the purple down

I first tasted under Apollo’s lip… love and love sweetness, I, Evadne; my hair is made of crisp violets or hyacinth which the wind combs b…

Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure

YOU are as gold as the half—ripe grain that merges to gold again, as white as the white rain that beats through