Florescent

Full-blown, blowsy: blooms that used to be
mere hints on the tips of trees—
Overnight it has become spring, season of
wild and ruddy burgeoning. They move too rapidly
into their prime, trying on dress after dress,
discarding cardigans, pinning on costume jewelry.
Perfume on wrists, blushed cheeks. Dark
consigned to evenings. Make pretty; kiss kiss!
Perfume on wrists, blushed cheeks. Dark
discarding cardigans. Pinning on costume jewelry
into their prime, trying on dress after dress.
Wild and ruddy burgeoning. They move too rapidly
overnight— it has become spring, season of
mere hints on the tips of trees;
full-blown, blowsy, blooms that used to be.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

2 Comments


  1. Wow. It’s like looking into a dark pond on a bright day. Otherwise I’m too stunned to say anything about this terrific poem.

    Reply

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