I’ll write about all the losses: socks, loosecoins fallen behind soft-cushioned sofas,shoes looped around lamp posts, laces danglinglike nooses, keys, coins, wallets, names and numberspassports and purses, pens, phones, glasses, gloves.
Black Tulips are symbols of mystery and elegance and are hard to grow—a bit like writing poems. There is always a sense of mystery around how a poem makes it on to the page. How it sits beneath the surface as a garden bulb does until the conditions are right for it to begin to sprout and push into being.
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