Afternoon Poem #2, March 28, 2017


Now the fool’s spring has passed

Those jonquils and azaleas,

Those plum trees bred in the south

Have blossomed, gold, crimson, and white

And died in the frigid nights

That the oaks knew were yet to come



Now the sunshine holds against the frost

And the days lengthen and the wise, old forest

Unfolds in green that will last till October


So with lovers

Those young and impetuous

Dive at the first thrill

And die with the snows yet to come

The old men hold their peace

And wait for that grace they recognize

That comes after.


copyright 2017

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