Gloria Tipularia
Gloria had it erected for her books and self to unwind.
A cozy space, well lit, comfortable for writer’s mind.
Nearby there is a Cranefly that grows in shade, it will
bloom soon below some Tulip Poplars in late spring.
The cabin is the best place for visitors and simple rest.
(The house being not quite the fit for writerly tasking.)
A sculpture, smoke ripened old grain and glass, I digress.
Orchid, that has a thick waxy pair of leaves that desire
nothing, resists all nurturing, is succulent thick and wide.
Then as if the universe ordained, one spike of flowers.
A long slender stalk of miniature cinnamon colored flyers.
Alone yet not lonely, like her, the only of its kind. Here still
alive for now with nowhere to go and yet, like her, soaring.
*Tipularia discolor, the crippled cranefly or crane-fly orchid,
is a member of the family Orchidaceae.
It is the only species of the genus Tipularia found in North America.
16 thoughts on "Gloria Tipularia"
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This poem is like that cabin, a place for simple rest. A careful, beautiful reverie. Love the conversational tone, feel like I’m on the porch listening to you.
Thanks bill and yes let’s make that happen this year.
I think we need a poetry sleepover weekend at some point this summer.
What a gorgeous space. I agree with Bill; I feel like I’m listening to you speak this aloud.
“There is a small one bedroom cabin built near the hill.
Gloria had it erected for her books and self to unwind.” I hope to one day have a space like Gloria had built.
Damn, Coleman! I feel like I just went to school. All your skills are on full display here. And the couplet is the perfect stanza choice for this one. You just show us how to see and describe in this poem. Well done!
Coleman, this poem is a glory. Perfect in couplets. So meditative, soothing, and reverential. And I learned about an unusual orchid growing wild in Kentucky. Thank you!
Lovely. You have become the poet I knew you could be.
He has.
Coleman, this poem transported me there. Sounds like the perfect place for en plein aire artwork, & then after dusk to go inside, rest& wait for a poem to surface in the candlelight,
It is magical.
Sally, it is , we have had a few guests that paid rent in plein air works….lol…..I have a really good one over the mantle that an artist did down by the lake.
Gloria, who we bought the place from, wrote with the pen name of bell hooks and the place is definitely magical.
Rest, yes. Now it is time to sleep. Forever sleep.
Sweetness.
It’s so clearly rendered to me in “Alone yet not lonely, like her, the only of its kind.”
All of this landed me in that cabin and near that hill and surrounded by all that life. Beautiful. I especially love the line “Alone yet not lonely, like her, the only of its kind.”
A beautiful, tender tribute to bell hooks. I love the details and imagery you have woven throughout. It speaks of a closeness to nature.
❤️ yes.