Aesthetic Realism Online Library Poetry by Martha Baird

    It Is Loving Every Other

    It is the year; it is the heart;
    It is the bride, wearing white, holding the rose.
    It is the time, like a pumpkin,
    Full and yellow, spinning, dancing,
    Into the earth.
    It is the seed, coming to air,
    Coming to light, coming to water,
    Under the earth;
    Coming to fruit, coming to leaves, coming to stems.
    Tall and pale, brides are stepping
    With leafy feet, waving the rose.
    It is the time, like a pumpkin, they will love
    In the year of the heart.

    From Nice Deity (Definition Press)
    © 1955 by Martha Baird

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