Goldenrod- A Stunning Poetry Collection from Maggie Smith

In this pandemic, we all felt most of the days were so much of a despondency. As usual, For relief, I have chosen to read poetry that only gave colours to me.

In the last few days, I have read a stunning poetry collection from a pushcart prize champion Maggie Smith’s Goldenrod. ( most of us may be remembered Good bones poet Maggie Smith)

Really it opens a new vision to my poetry world with simple phrases she made a greater imageries.

Choose it you can enjoy as like me

How dark the beginning

…….

We talk so much of light, please

let me speak on behalf

of the good dark. Let us

talk more about how dark

the beginning of a day is.

……Imagine if I could

wear my home and call it my body,

wear my body and call it home.

Where Honey Comes From

For more poems from… Maggie Smith

When my daughter drizzles gold
on her breakfast toast, I remind her

she’s seen the bee men in our tree,
casting smoke like a spell until

the swarm thrums itself to sleep.
She’s seen them wipe the air clean

with smoke, the way a hand smudges
chalk from a slate, erasing danger

written there, as if smoke revises
the story of the air until each page

reads never fear, never fear. Honey
is in the hive, forbidden lantern

lit on the inside, where it must be dark,
where it must always be. Honey

is sweetness and fear. I think
the bees have learned to embroider,

to stitch the sky with warnings
untouched by smoke. Buzzing

is the sound of bees perforating the air,
as if pulling thread through over

and over, though the thread too is air.