Her, a poem written by Carson Pytell at Spillwords.com



written by: Carson Pytell


Shakespeare is shamed and shackled
by but a whimper of the wind.
Monet, Turner, supreme in their way,
still bow to the scaping sovereign.

Always we’ve worked to emulate Her –
look long into Niaux, Chauvet, Lascaux –
or at least to glean from grapes and grain –
Perses, if he listened, should be proud.

Nature, as was said, is much more
than what we see.
So, in a garden, there’s no reason not
for ignominy.

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