Blue-Eyed Grass, Wild Iris, Wild Hyacinth
For Linda Watanabe McFerrin

Being ridiculously rich today,
After I've mailed off money to the poor,
Scrambling up Howl Mountain, by way of play,
I soak up some free sunlight, the bright air
Drying the sweat from my face. Free of charge
A few fair-weather cumulus drift by,
And any fool who wants to can indulge
His predilection to cast a cold eye
On life, on death, spread out below his feet—
The vineyards and the river and the trees
And mountains.—Come to think of it we've got
More than we had coming, in truth. The bees,
The solitary ones, sip flowers that, true
To sky above us, bloom absolute blue.

 

Poems by Jamie Irons: