Wednesday, March 13, 2013


I've been working on this poem for a few years, arranging and rearranging the stanzas, thinking about the fleeting nature of spring and flowers.

The photo I took last Sunday at Smith College. The line to get into their flower show went down the block, so instead of waiting I walked around the grounds and admired the snowdrops and crocuses.

Here's an ode to those tiny white flowers, the first to appear at this time of year.

Galanthus nivalis

It’s been a hard winter. As the new season breaks open—like always—I kneel to see your face unfurl. If I believed in time, stones and perfection I wouldn’t need your petals’ curl. But I don’t—and I do—so I seek you out, even though my loss of you begins as soon as you appear.