The White Iris Beautifies Me
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Not the white of hard-won cotton, or of pitiless snow—
I’ve found a whiteness that gives me its glory;
it blooms in Master Bellemare’s garden,
and though it is, by all counts, untouchable,
quiet as it’s kept, I’ve carried it into the shabbiest of cabins,
worn it as I witnessed the slave-breaker,
the hanging tree; in dream-snatches
it blesses me, and I become more than a brand,
a pretty chess piece: at the mistress’ bell,
always prudent and afraid, wily and afraid—
And when the day comes, my rescuing flower’s name
will become my daughter’s; a freeborn woman, [End Page 13]
I swear, she will never be shoeless
in January snow. Bold Iris,
she will never fear sale or the bottom of the sea. [End Page 14]
Cyrus Cassells, a resident of Austin and Paris (France), is author of four books of poems: The Mud Actor, Soul Make a Path Through Shouting, Beautiful Signor, and More Than Peace and Cypresses. He is a professor of English at Texas State University, where he teaches courses in creative writing.
