A few springs ago, I hiked to a certain spot I knew of in search of dwarf crested irises, but, instead of blooming irises, I found poison sumac (which I accidentally touched–> biggest blisters I’ve ever had) and, on the bright side, trilliums covered in fairy dust (okay, it was pine pollen, but when I see it in the photo, I think of fairy dust). I took this picture and made it the desktop background on my computer. The photograph seemed to be speaking to me; the purple petals in particular seemed more like arms lifted high in praise or arms reaching out in yearning than just ordinary petals. After staring at the photo for over a year, I wrote this poem about the little trillium:
Little trillium, tall and stately,
For whom do your purple petals reach?
Are they reaching for the soft clouds in the distant sky?
Or for the butterfly that flutters above you?
Little trillium, tall and stately,
For whom do your purple petals reach?
Are they raised in graceful ballerina form
Above your mottled skirt and stockinged leg?
Little trillium, tall and stately,
For whom do your purple petals reach?
Are they stretched out to embrace the bright, warm sun?
Or are they lifted in praise of your mighty Maker?
adaperioforis 