shot glass
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"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

M. Shayne Bell


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Notes on Potentiality in Iris sibirica

She lifts from nothing to become
this purple iris leaning to the Sun,
this flower I sit with at noon.
At dusk, I wait with her again.
All her sisters eavesdrop toward us.
Her perfume envelopes me.
She never sleeps, her life so short—
in deep night, she stands awake
for rivered stars and for the Moon.
Her days dawn with sparkling dews.