pollen
before the wind –
grandma’s
door again
with a
golden handle
Cristina Pârvu
Pollen
is a subtle and fruitful matter. A golden powder being carried by a faceless
and bodiless being towards a stigma miraculously apt to perpetuate life and
liveliness.
In the
natural slippage of suggestions, it cumulates the almost magical prestige of all
golden things. The reality that the poem evokes is a rich one, in which the
tale is intertwined with the real world. The golden doorknob reopens the realm
full of fabulous promises of the beginnings.
Comment by Corneliu Traian Atanasiu
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