Notes About The Poem
Craig Cornish's The Lonely Weed Poetry Contest
The Lonely Weed
A meadow awaits its springtime march
where my feet wander along
like one holy pilgrimage: a nettle drifts
without blame or sense of pity,
leaves lingering on trunks reddened
by the kiss of clay glossy
in a mad desire to wake, wake
dawn flowing with herbage.
I trace how flaming in amber this weed
crawls in wild, unbridled streaks
of lightened mud, part ground, part wind :
Twilight sings the break of newborn day
where this nettle crawls alone, not lonely;
its slithering frame posed to rule over blooms
a nymph perhaps trailblazing in abandon--
that being in this ethereal space rouses
both pleasure and piety within my bones…
while the soil's womb bears more weeds.
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