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