Grasping Your Soil
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The acrid root of love has gilding on
It. Wrinkles on it are not hidden by
The gold. They look like shrivels that are drawn
By greed. Some beads attempt to glorify
The root but it is pewter. Pendent leaves
Confuse the situation further. Oak
Bark pledges stable lengths, but it aggrieves,
The gilding more and more a villain’s cloak.
The poison was in lead in early times
But now it’s love itself that brings the harm.
The decorations cannot hide love’s crimes
Completely. Love is like a wizard’s charm.
Don’t hang it round the neck. Fake pearls won’t help.
