The Rose
The rose is obsolete
but each petal ends in
an edge, the double facet
cementing the grooved
columns of air-The edge
cuts without cutting
meets-nothing-renews
itself in metal or porcelain-
whither? It ends-
But if it ends
the start is begun
so that to engage roses
becomes a geometry-
Sharper, neater, more cutting
figured in majolica-
the broken plate
glazed with a rose
Somewhere the sense
makes copper roses
steel roses-
The rose carried weight of love
but love is at an end-of roses
It is at the edge of the
petal that love waits
Crisp, worked to defeat
laboredness-fragile
plucked, moist, half-raised
cold, precise, touching
What
The place between the petal's
edge and the
From the petal's edge a line starts
that being of steel
infinitely fine, infinitely
rigid penetrates
the Milky Way
without contact-lifting
from it-neither hanging
nor pushing-
The fragility of the flower
unbruised
penetrates space
William Carlos Williams
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