Turmeric (villanelle)

The roots keep on spreading, so close, out of sight.

Though the garden is manicured, carefully clipped,

when the flower is ready, the shoots find the light.

 

Though the school is a prison; a withering blight

On the soul of the child, unprepared, unequipped,

the roots keep on spreading, so close, out of sight.

 

We work through the dark hours, the rich warmth of night,

eschewing instructions, ignoring the script.

When the flower is ready, the shoots find the light.

 

Our spaces are cross-hatched with soft lines of flight,

with echoes of play, and the parts that we skipped.

The roots keep on spreading, so close, out of sight,

 

and once they entwine, once entangled, they might

coalesce and emerge, when the masks have all slipped;

when the flower is ready, the shoots find the light.

 

Hard to say it sometimes, it’s so blinding, so bright,

but it isn’t content, to be packaged or shipped,

and the roots keep on spreading, so close, out of sight.

When the flower is ready, the shoots will find light.

 

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3 thoughts on “Turmeric (villanelle)

  1. Nick, I love this! The two repeating lines are perfection. (It does niggle a bit that a couple of lines don’t scan, but the flower is ready.)

    I’m so happy to see more exploration of #rhizo15 poetry. It helps things sneak into my briefly bruised brain that might be too dense to take in via prose. Thank you!!

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