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In Mary Oliver’s poem, Golden Rod, she playfully refers to Goldenrod as Sneeze-Bringers. She captures the feeling I have when I walk past a field of goldenrod on a sunny fall day.
On roadsides in the fall,/ i n rumpy bunches,/ saffron and orange and pale gold,/ in little towers,/ soft as mash,/ sneeze bringers and seed bearers,/ full of bees and yellow beads and perfect flowerettes / and orange butterflies./ I don’t suppose/ much notice comes of it, except for honey and how it heartens my heart with its blank blaze....
Pastel, 12×16” plus 1” black frame
In Mary Oliver’s poem, Golden Rod, she playfully refers to Goldenrod as Sneeze-Bringers. She captures the feeling I have when I walk past a field of goldenrod on a sunny fall day.
On roadsides in the fall,/ i n rumpy bunches,/ saffron and orange and pale gold,/ in little towers,/ soft as mash,/ sneeze bringers and seed bearers,/ full of bees and yellow beads and perfect flowerettes / and orange butterflies./ I don’t suppose/ much notice comes of it, except for honey and how it heartens my heart with its blank blaze....
Pastel, 12×16” plus 1” black frame