Adrie Rose


Music, Pink & Blue No. 2 by Georgia O'Keeffe


1918. There is a man in a canvas tent fevered, not knowing he will be the first to die on U.S. soil of H1N1, for now let him sleep, along the gentle ridge of the petal, is it a petal, swooning pink and purple, here is a hand holding a paint brush, a woman who will stay out of mental hospitals for another ten years. Here the turquoise center. Not one of Wilson’s fourteen points to end the War is here, not a minute of Congressional debate to enact daylight savings time. She wished she were a musician —that pure art— The blush of blue continues past the body, the droplets bloom from the coughing man, I too don’t know how to reveal what is inside a year, what to keep outside the frame, the surge upward,  the  strange  beauty,  the  music,    keep  going

 

Adrie Rose lives next to an orchard in western MA and is the editor of Nine Syllables Press. Her chapbook Rupture is forthcoming with Gold Line Press in 2023, and she has a micro chap forthcoming in 2023 with Porkbelly Press. She is a Poetry MFA student at Warren Wilson College. Her work has previously appeared in Nimrod, The Night Heron Barks, Underblong, Witness, and more. She won the Elizabeth Babcock Poetry Prize, the Ethel Olin Corbin Prize, and the Gertrude Posner Spencer Prize in 2021, and the Anne Bradstreet Prize, the Eleanor Cederstrom Prize, and the Mary Augusta Jordan Prize in 2022. Find her on Instagram @AdrieRose_

ISSN 2472-338X
© 2023