Rain again. The fat daffodil buds
sag on their stalks: and this one --
her broken neck, still in its ace bandage,
beaten into the mud -- opened too soon.
Oh my sweet darlings
it has not been
an easy Spring for any of us.
In response to this Morning Porch entry.
Lovely. And how true. It has been a cold, wet beginning.
ReplyDeletei love the bandage. and yes, a harsh spring. xo
ReplyDeleteOh love this.
ReplyDeleteLove it. Such a delightful ending.
ReplyDeletesweet darlings, indeed - first blossoms are such a sight for sore eyes
ReplyDeletegorgeously true. xoxo
ReplyDeleteThis is probably my favorite "Spring" poem now. I sort of hate Spring. I have vicious pollen allergies, which makes Spring really hard for me. I get really tired of the mandate that spring poems be all about rebirth and hope, etc.. I have always found it to be a painful and awkward time; this coming into the summer, the birthing process.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, everyone! Kristen, yes, this has always been the hardest season for me, too.
ReplyDeleteCursing spring, I am! We've none. None at all. Except for today. ;)
ReplyDeleteLove the poem!
We had something today that was like a really nice February day, Jayne. So maybe something like a March day will show up, in a month or two.
ReplyDelete