Tulips


Loosely leaning down, around—
a lemon carousel. 

The nearest one is peering through a lone
triangular eye at me.
(Does foxglove bloom for the bee?)

Through the manzanilla glass of my own green eyes
these twenty-two yellows are light; this close-up cup,
a flood.

The miracle, not only spring—so
many things beginning.
But sexlessness
and rest.

Blue vase, bent stems; petals, pale and evasive.
Not a scent.


Questions and Answers

What inspired “Tulips”?

This is a lyric; that is, a personal poem, in which I both reveal and shield myself through tulips. Flora and fauna are pervasive sources of tropes in my poetry; they allow me to “say it slant.”


This poem “Tulips” originally appeared in Canadian Literature 180 (Spring 2004): 29.

Please note that works on the Canadian Literature website may not be the final versions as they appear in the journal, as additional editing may take place between the web and print versions. If you are quoting reviews, articles, and/or poems from the Canadian Literature website, please indicate the date of access.