I wrote this poem a few weeks ago, as Winter took over again after a late winter Buffalo heatwave. It may need some working through, but I'll let it go out into the world as-is.
This Year
by
Susan Harris-Gamard
This year
The buds of the
magnolia have browned
Like a half-charged
memory growing ill
And withered in the new light.
Extinguished by the
faceted brilliance
Of Sir Frost’s shocking freeze.
The sonorous
footfalls of his size 12 boots
Echo long beyond any welcome.
This mere shadow of a
bloom heals me
With its smothered
vow of surety
And the soft cry of
hope within
Its withering frame.
As the brown petals
meet the ground
My own arms unfurl to
greet
Master Spring as He
Leaps Forward
In grassy slippers as
delicate as breath.
