Head On A Stem, ‘noir’ by Odilon Redon, Public Domain, via wikipaintings.org
He said that’s what they were, but
she didn’t believe him, murmuring
magic beans in her head,
and then one jet-black night she
planted them deep and up up up
stretched that dark stem,
and then a crescent shell, lily white
and curved toward sky, a scythe and
sigh rising. The waxing
ivory bloom balloon swelled and
swayed, and held its silver face
against a spill of stars.
From afar, you can know her glow
to this day, beg her bloomin’
waning heart to stay.
Written for Toads.