From the archives – Carnations — Guy Kettelhack

Carnations

And now into the viscous dark –
that blacker than imaginable heart
of things – I go to undergo new throes

of recollection – transformation. My
mother loved carnations – their peculiar
sweet timidity – I remember their

strange scent and hold on her and
on the hollow casket (she was nowhere
to be found in it) where they bestowed

their blushing and their bloom: riding
off the sides, they filled the room
with dissonance and odd perfume.

Three years ago, approximately
today, she started sliding on
the way to die the first week in July.

And now against the viscous dark –
that blacker than imaginable heart
of my unknowing – I imagine pink arising –

growing: redolently weird – its power
blasts the past and future into now –
enigmatic blossom of eternity: her flower.

from Autumn Sky Poetry 2 — by Guy Kettelhack

Video by Kuan-ming Su

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