Post 226: azalea, magenta, poetry, music, spring, ART

by Carol Bass

AZALEA IN THE WOODS

AZALEA IN THE WOODS

SHE CALLED TO ME

as clearly as a lady of the night
in
M O N T E V I D E O
in
N E W O R L E A N S

except it was morning in S C
on my way
to the P O

come gaze
at my deep magenta petals
sniff my blooming unearthly pinks
cause you more blushing
than is humanly wise

so wondrous, I could die now
at least cry out
at the subtle scent
here near
these shady pines

“I will turn over your day
tip it toward paradise
make you
glad you were born”

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