Monday, April 14, 2014

Contemplative Poetry Series - Jan L. Richardson


At lunch today
it was the purple
 of the olive pits
against my cobalt plate
that stunned me.

At tea,
the gold of peach
bloodstained by its stone.

I do not know
where the greater part
of the miracle lies;
that I should pause
to notice this,

or that I, 
a woman of
such great hungers,
should be so well satisfied
by such small things.

In the Sanctuary 
of Women
page 89

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