Pansy (September)

It’s years since I read any Lawrence, except for the poetry. One collection is called ‘Pansies’ (1929), an aural joke on the French word Pensées. Our first thought though is analogous. How is a pansy a thought? Are thoughts actually black in the centre, with the distinctive colour of the thought around the edges, hi-vis yellow, platonic pink, mood indigo? Rather than made of light, their centre is darkness? I’ve no idea. Is the home of thoughts pitch black? Or is there soft light inside, like the marble-walled Beinecke Library at Yale? In September as leaves fall? I don’t know.