Sunday Songs: Sea Lily from the Sea Garden Collection

SEA LILY — Hilda Dollittle

REED,
slashed and torn
but doubly rich—
such great heads as yours
drift upon temple-steps,
but you are shattered
in the wind.

Myrtle-bark
is flecked from you,
scales are dashed
from your stem,
sand cuts your petal,
furrows it with hard edge,
like flint
on a bright stone.

Yet though the whole wind
slash at your bark,
you are lifted up,
aye—though it hiss
to cover you with froth.

 

I haven’t put in any poems lately, so to re-incorporate it into the blog, I’m going to put one up every Sunday, calling it Sunday Songs. The poems will either be of my own creation, or from particular poems that I like.

This poem is by Hilda Doolittle, most often called H.D., thanks to Ezra Pound. I prefer to give her her full name as to re-appropriate her as a proper female poet; more than the one-note Imagist label she was given.

 

 

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