Sometimes when I’m out
playing in the dirt
I see things so beautiful
they almost hurt.
Tag Archives: lily
Connections: April 4
Ah, the April fireside
what could be more cozy
as the gentle breath of spring
turns my cheeks all numb and rosy?
As fluffy flakes of snow
pile on the daffy-down-dilly
and twinkling dabs of frost besmirch
emergent spears of lily,
what’s a gardener to do
but sulk at fireplace
and contemplate her chilblains
instead of pansy face?
More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
How wet is it?
Summerwet
this air of spring
porridge-thick
heavy
choking
Cats and dogs
they say
the rain pelted,
slowed to lazy,
now hovers
in drip
and wilt
Free facewash
no towel
— patience —
awaiting
bug lick
Too wet
to stand
too heady
the quaff
not to nod over
into mud bath
Too wet
not to clamber
curling
from lightless places
through cracks
holding to
burled
pebbles
Wet enough
for changeling
— lily to bromeliad —
slurping rain
downleaf
for safekeeping
Wet enough
to gather
midrib
mercurial domes
quaked
by breath
of showery breeze
Against a thirsty future
the earth gulps
and saves
Meanwhile
a rainbow
Centerpiece madrigal
Berry once red white round
now too-soft browned
Sing phoo
Lily once queenly starred
now bowing inward
Sing phoo
Dianthus once dimpled frilled
now succumbing shrivelled
Sing phoo
Mum once primly fluffy-petalled
now matted time-riddled
Sing phoo
Christmas is over.
Sing phoo, sing phoo.
