The Wildflower Press - Poetry Corner
 

Poems by Jeanne Shannon:

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Material © Copyright 2007 Jeanne Shannon
All Rights Reserved

HEDGE BINDWEED
                                  Jeanne Shannon 

le liseron    wild morning glory 

a blue that stops the mind   

 

flower of Montezuma’s gardens   

seeks disturbed ground, prairies and wet meadows    

hedge-bell, bearbind    clockwise entwines photinia,

piñon, pear    aggressor whose language is humility

 

blooms at daybreak in funnels of purple or magenta  

flowers turn shy in noon’s assertive light and close

at dark     this language the transience of life

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TICKSEED SUNFLOWER
                     Jeanne Shannon
 

Perennial in aridity and smoked light.  

Rayed flowers exude bright yellow, 

the color of communication.  Black 

seeds resembling ticks and chinch 

bugs.  Sprinkled like peppercorns in 

fields and open places. Leaves 

opposite (entire or lobed).  Craves 

sandy soil and July’s crackled heat.

 

Blooms a long time, cut flowers in a 

cobalt vase.

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SAN DIEGO SUMMER AFTERNOON,
SONGS FROM THE FORTIES PLAYING

                                 Jeanne Shannon

always 
      the old songs
      of love
      and longing

wistful
      above these
      streets with
      mineral names

                       garnet
                       emerald
                       feldspar

the celadon waters
               lapping


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SEPTEMBER, AND STRAWBERRY LEAVES
REDDEN AROUND THE EDGES

                      Jeanne Shannon

o summer
sweet
summer that
ebbs away
another

how sweetly you go
into old
quietness

what goat cries
rise
in the tamarack
grove

marigold
tansy
straw-
berry leaf

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BACH ON AN AUTUMN EVENING,  
A FOREST IN NEW MEXICO  
                     Jeanne Shannon

 Gilt songs of baroque angels
 
above this streamy landscape


      Oaks preening their twelve-lobed leaves,
a sky lentiginous with stars

How the white moon dissolves, dissolves

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CANDELA
                     Jeanne Shannon

                        in fact:

                        spring light
                       
is pouring black tulips from a pitcher

 
                       
the Virgin:

                        stands in the walnut tree
                        cool as a charmed quark

                        rose trees bow down
                       
it is burning noon

 
                       
says to me:

                        behold
                       
gold angels
                       
landing in the cherry leaves

                        extract
                       
the radium of the word

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LILAC
                     Jeanne Shannon

 “Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.” 
  ~ Theodore Roethke
green pores of April grass
bleeding nitrogen 

bruised purple scent
riding in corners of wind 

music of saxophone and bee
stone bells
 
the dark and the light
are never separate

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