MonkshoodAuthor(s): Marianne BoruchSource: The Iowa Review, Vol. 17, No. 2 (Spring - Summer, 1987), p. 67Published by: University of IowaStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20156393 .

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MONKSHOOD

They have their vows: emptiness and clarity and disbelief. In all their immigration

greed is a country

they never enter. Ancient as chant

in single lines they hunch

their small blue heads

above the garden too rash with yellow anth?mis. Monkshood never equates envy

with desire. They envy nothing, not

the sultry peony too rich

for its own stalk, bent down with the lurid

possibility of a Chinese screen luminous

with wings. Enough, they say, cut back to shroud.

Then it's camera quiet. Shady. Deep now

with other lifetimes, bees

a sudden narcotic. They glaze the garden.

67

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