Part Two: Nature

XXXI

NATURE rarer uses yellow       

  Than another hue;       

Saves she all of that for sunsets,—   

  Prodigal of blue,

 

Spending scarlet like a woman,                 5

  Yellow she affords       

Only scantly and selectly,        

  Like a lover’s words.

These days of waiting it is easy to roam in our garden and cut roses to scan. Today I thought that the idea of doing something related to the yellow stamens of my roses (all once bloomers) was a good one. But then, what could I possibly write about?

The first thing I did was to look up the Real Academia Española Dictionary (RAE) definition of amarillo (yellow). It seems that it comes from the Latin amarellus which means bitter.

Del b. lat. hisp. amarellus, y este del dim. del lat. amārus 'amargo'.

From there I went to my old faithful Emily Dickinson who seems to have written about everything. That she did. Her little poem is not bitter. I would say bittersweet.

 More Emily Dickinson  
A sepal, petal and a thorn
Her breast is fit for pearls  
I would not paint a picture
November left then clambered up
You cannot make remembrance grow
November
the maple wears a gayer scarf 
We turn not older with years, but older