William Bedford
These Jungian Flowers
In acres of sunlight
they persist,
distilling
their own fever.
Beginning with light,
violent as the dark
that brought them,
they weather their own storms,
torn from the imagination.
Only time
understands their silence.
And when darkness
returns,
and the stones talk into darkness,
their shadows
will haunt the moon.
Page(s) 35
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