The lilacs wither in the Carolinas. <br />Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins. <br />Already the new-born children interpret love <br />In the voices of mothers. <br /> <br />Timeless mothers, <br />How is it that your aspic nipples <br />For once vent honey? <br /> <br />The pine-tree sweetens my body <br />The white iris beautifies me.<br /><br />Wallace Stevens<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-carolinas/
