Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WILD IRIS, by DENISE BARRETTE



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WILD IRIS, by            
First Line: This is the dark and secret place
Last Line: But I, I could not pick one now.
Subject(s): Iris (flower)


This is the dark and secret place:
Here in the cold wet lace
Of ferns they stood
Poised in crisp and watery blue.
Here in the twilight damp they grew:
Not many -- just a few.
Mysterious, they always seemed
Like sapphires burning there.

Are these the same that bloomed
In other, younger springs?
The petals rise as freshly from the bough --
But I, I could not pick one now.





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