Marigolds Ruffles of bright orange and cinnamon, you, marigolds, spun from a pinch of seeds, grow in abundance in between eggplants’ glossy purple, protecting them with stenciled green leaves like an armor worn close to skin—the scent of rain, the sight of monarchs, the sound of bees. No wonder I am mesmerized by your tongues’ small fires glowing with desire. You are ancient medicine in the time of women whose faces mirrored the sun.
M.J. Iuppa’s fifth full length poetry collection The Weight of Air from Kelsay Books was released in September 2022; and, a chapbook of 24 100-word stories, Rock. Paper. Scissors., from Foothills Publishing in 2022. For the past 33 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.
Love this poem. Not a wasted word.
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