Risen

And after winter, the plants I thought
had surely perished in hardscrabble
soil, now signal their return: once dry,
the arms of the hydrangea now push
tight-woven clusters of veined green;
along the ground, runners roll aside
the stones and begin to edge the walk.
Everywhere, aspect of light that hid before
behind curtains of fog or sheets of snow
or blinding rain. Vivid gash of peonies,
new swelling throats— lilies speckling
with pollen dust: as though a season
wracked turns now from a long fast.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

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2 Comments


  1. Lovely. My favorite is the ending –
    “as though
    a season wracked turns now from a long fast.”
    What a summation of spring and Easter and all they both entail. Thanks.

    Reply

  2. Thank you, Kat. I tweaked some of the line breaks just a little since you read and quoted those last lines, though the language remains essentially the same. Hope you had a good Easter.

    Reply

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