Moving Forward, Brittany Lenze
Cempasúchil
La boca de una niña llamada
Flore se mantiene abierta por el
Viento, o un tope de puerta.
En el umbral ella observa
Sonidos otoñales. Ella espera
Por el niño llamado
Picaflor (¡Picaflor!)
Inspector de las Flores.
En ti el nombre tararea (¡cucú!)
En ti las Flores cantan y mi alma en ellas
Frunce el ceño cortésmente,
Trata de discutir el tiempo:
¿No están calientes los rayos de Dios hoy?
¿Por qué se llama la Flor de veinte pétalos?
Ella rió el viento mientras él bebió el
Néctar de la tarde
Antes de darse cuenta
Que alguien estaba
Detrás de ellos.
Twenty Petals and a Desperate Song
The mouth of a girl called
Flower is kept open by the
wind, or a door stopper.
On the threshold she observes
autumnal sounds. She waits
for the boy called
Hummingbird! (Peekaboo!)
Flower inspector.
“In you the name hums (Cuckoo!)”
“In you the flowers sing and my soul in them
frowns politely,
tries to discuss the weather:
aren’t God’s rays hot today?”
Since when did we start calling one Flower twenty?
She laughs wind while he drinks the
evening nectar
before they realize
someone is
standing behind them.
About the Author
Benjamin Radcliffe · University of Connecticut
Benjamin Radcliffe started writing poems in the wake of his friend’s death six years ago, for which he was selected for the CT Student Poetry Circuit. He has a double Bachelor’s in English and Anthropology from the University of Connecticut. He now works as a beekeeper, sugarmaker, and pygmy horse caretaker at Brooksvale Park in Hamden, CT. He spends most of his time writing songs for the soft-rock band he’s going to make one day with his girlfriend. “Cempasúchil” was first published in Long River Review.
About the Artist
Brittany Lenze
Brittany Lenze received her BS in Ecology with minors in Environmental Science and Painting from Lycoming College and her MPS in Horticulture from Cornell University. Her love for the environment and nature has been a major influence in her art and photography. This piece first appeared in The Tributary.
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