Wonderful words about wood garlic—I can taste it’s fragrance, reading Anna’s poem.
In the darkness of the ancient woods
a galaxy of fragile constellations –
the spiked flowers of the ramsoms.
The bulbs once harvested for Hecate,
brushed smooth of soil
placed on rocks for the moon goddess.
Bear Leaf – its other name.
Can you imagine the furred beast – talons
like scissors, ripping the stitch of root
from the dark weave of earth?
What a plant! Those delicate blooms,
mimicking the heavens
coupled with that smell –
salty, ripe, heady as hot flesh.
The body’s incense, smouldering.
Aren’t we all wild garlic
rooted into the dark woods
offering ourselves to the gods,
cowering from rough paws,
blazing our pure stars?
Anna Saunders is the author of Communion, (Wild Conversations Press), Struck, (Pindrop Press) and Kissing the She Bear, (Wild Conversations Press) and Burne Jones and the Fox (Indigo Dreams) and the forthcoming Ghosting for Beginners (Indigo Dreams, Spring…
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