Sneeze-Bringers
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....
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....
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....