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a sprig of dill :: howard nemerov

by on January 27, 2016

Small, fragrant, green, a stalk splits at the top
And rays out a hemisphere of twenty stems
That split in their turn and ray out twenty more
In hemispheres of twenty yellow stars
Targeted white, sprays mothered of spray
Displaying their tripled oneness all at once,
Radiant and delicate and loosely exact
As the cosmos in The Comedy, or as
The Copernican system on an orrery,
The quiet flowerworks of the mind of God
In an Age of Reason—that’s in here. Out there,
The formless furnaces in Andromeda,
Hydra, The Veil, Orion’s nightmare head.

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