Skunk Cabbage Eric Ormsby (1941- ) The skunk cabbage with its smug and opulent smell Opens in plump magnificence near the edge Of garbage-strewn canals, or you see its shape Arise near the wet roots of the marsh. How vigilant it looks with its glossy leaves Parted to disclose its bruised insides, That troubled purple of its blossom! It always seemed so squat, dumpy and rank, A noxious efflorescence of the swamp, Until I got down low and looked at it. Now I search out its blunt totemic shape And bow when I see its outer stalks Drawn aside, like the frilly curtains of the ark, For the foul magenta of its gorgeous heart. -- Come have a journey with PowLluimniz. 英诗板 --> 雅典娜的神殿 --> 英诗入门 --> 波鲁米尼兹幽冥旅 --

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