March Meets October
The violets are deepest purple in
The lane. This purple laughs as darkness there
Beneath the hedge. Such purple is the twin
Of brighter colors matching autumn’s blare
Of orange, but the double of them just
In beauty. Blooms so much restrained cannot
Compete with brilliance. They have learned to trust
That eyes that love are not an afterthought.
These eyes are destined to come worship them
As much as maples’ heated tangerine.
Each perfect purple held up on its stem
Is something, then, of Providence foreseen.
..The moral of this concordat is clear.
….Both darkest lushness and éclat cohere.