Life and Limb
A Poem In Memoriam: Carol Hepper, renowned artist, 1953–2021
This year especially
the irony of the first in bloom
on the last day I’d ever see you
Witch Hazel divining spring
before breath turns invisible
those unearthly blossoms in March
gone before its begun
Ragged, spidery, ribbon petals
the color of sulfur and blood
braving bare branches compact
like tiny shocks-of-hair
worn by the hag invoked by its name
only less menacing
that smell
Sharp, spicy, intimate
not like other flowers on trees
like gaudy Cherry, immoderate Japanese
Magnolia
redolent overcompensation
for winter’s embarrassment
— all those months of nakedness
Witch Hazel flowers care less
are strong but weak
too thin to conceal
they are working-class decent
disheveled from doing
their job
conjuring beauty