The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.
Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.
Already the new-born children interpret love
In the voices of mothers.
Timeless mothers,
How is it that your aspic nipples
For once vent honey?
The pine-tree sweetens my body
The white iris beautifies me.
In The Carolinas
Wallace Stevens
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Poem topics: children, tree, white, honey, body, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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