Sunday April 24, 2011

Peonies have broken ground: skinny red claws reaching for the light. The whining clucks of a hen turkey separated from the flock.

2 Comments


  1. Risen

    And after winter, the plants I thought
    had surely perished in hardscrabble
    soil, now signal their return: once dry,
    the arms of the hydrangea now push
    tight-woven clusters of veined green;
    along the ground, runners roll aside
    the stones and begin to edge the walk.
    Everywhere, aspect of light that hid before
    behind curtains of fog or sheets of snow
    or blinding rain. Vivid gash of peonies,
    new swelling throats– lilies speckling
    with pollen dust: as though a season
    wracked turns now from a long fast.

    – Luisa A. Igloria
    04 24 2011


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