In hepatica time

This entry is part 78 of 91 in the series Toward Noon: 3verses

It’s cold. Mid-day
and the hepatica flowers are still
only half-open, nodding

on their thin stalks.
My mother tallies them up—
stroke-marks in her notebook.

At the top of a hemlock tree,
a porcupine sleeps in a sunlit
halo of quills.

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5 Comments



  1. Oh, I like this very much. “nodding / on their thin stalks” and “stroke-marks in her notebook” and of course that last line.

    Reply

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