Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Dog Tooth Violet

And Cain said to the Lord:
My iniquity is greater than that I may deserve pardon.

Dog-tooth violet, your fanged petals deceive
Our eyes. You are no mourning flower – your life
Growls with raining sunlight. So we believe
That straining your deathless bloom you face the grief
Of shades. Your adder’s tongue makes its whispers
Of air, and we begin to hate the doubt
That rings with Easter bells within our prayers.
How full is flesh that cannot do without
Vanity’s violence: Abel suffered harm
In clenching jaws that Cain’s bitter love
Of self had dogged for sacrificial gains.
Like hounds that bite the blood and wilt the veins,
Empty sins’ barking guilt echoes to prove
That God's matter blooms in man’s hang-dog form.

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