There is no better talk
thoughts shared in violet hollows
where not so much praise as scent
not so much words as velvetâ€”
soft petals on our facesâ€”
speak our language.
So, love, make plain
you might wish in digging out
green hills for four-leaved omens
we might taste in stems of waiting clover
and I might see in hollows of your
throat, your lips, your eyes.
Sarah Dunster contributes regularly to WIZ as a writer and a reader. Her wide-eyed wonder at the world and at words embodies the spirit of LONNOL month. She has published in Dialogue and Fire in the Pasture. For more, go here.