SMALL VICTORIES and the poetry of Adrian Harte

In a teaser for some big news coming in the next month, here’s some fresh poetry that has yet to find a home.

Here’s Narcissus

(In typical poetry universe style we’ll only gave this exposure for a few days)

The world saw, I think they said,

the snow of May, the more elegant

neige de mai, white waves

whiter than a Vermeer veil

a veil of jonquils and narcissisi. I saw

the head of a tolerated neighbour

jabbed forward almost escaping

its neck. Invading, in your face,

feeling proximity as much as spittle

speckle as sap. That frail green neck

barely containing bleached petals.

The self same sap emetic, the rest

merely irritating. The protected

reflecting narcissus no match

for brutish daffodils

but flowers like words have their worth.

Here high above Lac Léman hikers

slalom slowly through the white

courage unplucked as signs warn

not to pluck even a stem the swarm.

Some do, some pay for jars

of bunches offered for five francs

from prairie farmers. I take a close-up look

at white paper petals, gaze at the centre

creamy yellow and out of place

as if the last that’ll do jab

of the brush from its painter.

Adrian Harte 2023