June 01, 2010
Tuesday Poem
The Rarest ThymeNot a pathetic patch for mint and chives
But a real olitory, with old-
Fashioned southernwood and rarest thyme.
I might have built a wooden seat between
Two plants of rosemary, their astringent
Scent seeping through your workshirt to the clean
Flesh of your back. I would have grown a plant
Of basil for you to stroke into form;
And, certainly, a row of lavender
To infuse carefully over a warm
Stove, for you to sip at whenever
The world became darkened with sick headaches,
Or a loss of blood whitened your small hands.
by Thomas McCarthy
from Mr. Dineen's Careful Parade - New and Selected Poems
Anvil Press Poetry, London, 1999
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