by Tess Taylor
They go, the early flags, the gory maples—
so too the daffodils & Lenten roses.
Other petals swirl & nights warm.
Buds thicken and cast shadows:
in a thunderstorm
I almost forget the ice that was.
Narcissi suckle watery paths;
meadows heap up emerald masses.
How green & I want to delight
except this undertow—it pulls so fast
passing before I recognize it—
like souls in Dante who can’t see the present,
white lilacs curdle in pre-summer heat.
The parade I barely noticed was beginning
is already halfway down the street.
From:
Work and Days
Copyright ©:
2016, Red Hen Press
Last updated March 04, 2023