Adele Evershed

W O R D S • I D E A S : A D E L E E V E R S H E D

Blooming* Age

did you know star magnolias bloom before the greening of their leaves? stranded behind benevolent bars of leafless trees—I am a magnolia pale as spilt milk desilvering as the last blossoms leave the scent of ruin in my hair

these are the three shades of my sorrow— all of them white and none of them blooming holy

*blooming-a British colloquial term for emphasis to add frustration and dislike (Urban Dictionary)

Amaryllis

He elbowed his way in Smiling like a TV vicar His talk bluer than his background About harvesting under nets Green thumbs and donkey races His hands dug into the earth of her Allaying and meshing the red deluge So she was swept up with it all

And then he left everything behind

Lost among the pomegranate trees She pierced her heart—colding it A frost should kill off dangerous things Yet something was still wrong He had etched a built in line of weakness So she painted her lips scarlet Disappearing into the seed of an idea And puckering up only once a year

And yet it was everything

Does Everyone Hate Renoir?

What can I do with all the left behind things So they do not break a person?

The striped sock languishing under the bed A western as a suggestion on Netflix A can of IPA slyly hiding behind the mayo

You always saw the world like Van Gogh Thick and dark with color but shattered

I was more like Renoir Blended—peaceful—easy to see A handful of flowers in a jug

One small daisy near the handle To remind you I was once wild

But all flowers die in the dark And I’m just one of yours—going to seed on the shelf

So I turn upside down-rewilding myself And grow towards the light

Adele Evershed was born in Wales and has lived in Hong Kong and Singapore before settling in Connecticut. Her poetry and prose have been published in several online journals and print anthologies. She has been recently nominated for The Pushcart Prize for poetry. Read more-thelithag.com