Dry, peeling globe, whiskered, spidery tendrils bottomside. Topside, a thumbnail pokes through, plays at growing green, threatening strong stalks up, up, up. Blooms are said to hide within– secrets in scarlet, crimson, peach pearly white, the palest pink– a plantiferous palette of possibilities.   But I do not see their beauty now Cannot feel any joy at what is there unseen. I’m feeling bulb-like these … Continue reading Thoughts on an Amaryllis