disinterested heavens bloom
judicious flowers of indigo
evidence in the great disquisition
a lone star reflects these ordinary eyes
winter eyes
in quiet woods, still wick
Image: Nichols Arboretum in winter.
From “The Secret Garden” by Francis Hodgson Burnett:
“That one?” she said. “Is that one quite alive—quite?”Dickon curved his wide smiling mouth.
“It’s as wick as you or me,” he said; and Mary remembered that Martha had told her that “wick” meant “alive” or “lively.”
“I’m glad it’s wick!” she cried out in her whisper. “I want them all to be wick. Let us go round the garden and count how many wick ones there are.”
She quite panted with eagerness, and Dickon was as eager as she was. They went from tree to tree and from bush to bush. Dickon carried his knife in his hand and showed her things which she thought wonderful.
Primitive Joe 