From two or three years ago, if my poetic record-keeping be reliable!
We Never Quite Know
We never quite know
when spring will begin!
One year we were seeing flowers
on President’s Day:
crocuses, saxifrage, snowdrops, hyacinths, patience.
It was a winter of no winter:
one of the warmest on record,
with sandals in February
even here in New England.
Another year, spring didn't show up
until the end of March.
Park benches emerged slowly
from white tombs;
Lent with its heaped feet of snow
was endless, hopeless with cold.
That first flower –
could it be? was it possible?
We never quite know (do we?)
when the weather will start to smile upon us,
when the south wind will perk the first burgeonings,
will green the grief-black branch,
will rose the thicket and violet the vale.
Sprites of springtime,
garland us with blisses!
Dance us into April, May,
when mornings are merry
with winged singers
and eyes go blithe
at the blossoming of apple-trees!
Leaf us to life
after the clench and chill --
voice us a chorus of primavera!
Waken us, quicken us, brighten our days!
Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas
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Written on 2018-03-14 at 08:01
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