Spring 2015
Vipers Bugloss by Joan Colby
The sibilance buzzing over the ox’s tongue
Is that of bees who love the provender
Of constant nectar. Sweet purple blossoms,
Pink anthers that some
Envision as snaky. It is the seeds
That resemble serpents’ heads.
A decoction of them crushed
In wine will comfort the heart
Of those lost in melancholy.
Let us recall hymns:
Amazing Grace
Rock of Ages
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.
Hymns to cure the ache
In the soul where the viper coils.
The Linnet's Wings Poetry
As a child, I sang Dies Irae, Dies Illa.
Day of Wrath and Doom.
A language old as a vegetation myth.
The body on the cross hangs
Like an invasive bloom. Viper’s Bugloss
In the walled off garden.