underrunning everything
By noon, the ice as thin
as an eggshell veined to show
life seeping yellow,
one’s boots sink in
with a snap; the sap
underrunning everythingSpring Thaw in South Hadley by Mary Jo Salter
I’m on auto pilot this week, while we visit the Grand Canyon; I’m sure that it will be Spring not just astronomically but meteorologically by the time we get back. Meanwhile, here’s a series from the Dowling Community Garden: it was past the vernal equinox, but that’s hardly a deterrent to Old Man Winter . . .
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[...] There’s something quieter than sleep Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast, And will not tell its name. [...]