Swinging from their straw stems like
rows of origami insects or
wild locusts, filtering the light
through pale tissue-paper wings,
spread wide to fledge a seed
stilt-legged as a crane fly, and flaunt
an underbelly furred with fine
hair to catch the wind and launch
them casually onto the breeze.
Random, reckless, extravagant
progenitors; last year's scatter
arching over the grass. The gauze
artistry of their arrangements in
pendulous, quivering imagoes.
Copyright Kathleen Jones
Photographs Copyright Neil Ferber
For more Tuesday Poems, check out the Tuesday Poem hub. I'm this week's editor, with a poem by Michael Woods, from his first collection 'Absence Notes'.