The Red Dress
After 'In a Shoreham garden'
By Samuel Palmer
He asked me to put on my red dress
and stand still as a statue at the path’s end.
The pear tree blossom hangs like bells from its branches.
I hear soft breezes lift each bunch softly in the air
to fall again.
As he paints, his brush stirs water –
a cool tinkling sound.
From the smithy outside
a metallic clanging begins;
galvanized, blood pumps hot in my veins.
I look up at the Sun, see a fire blazed world,
and the hammers pound over and over again –
heavy and sure.
The bright metal is held on the anvil
as red sparks from my dress fly
down the path, into the trees,
up to the sky.
Page(s) 17
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