poem

 Impatients

Daffodils burst forth at the first hint

Of spring, firing when ready

By the time I blossom

The sun is already too far away

It’s too cold, the days too short

I’ve missed the torrents of April rain 

And the promise of the first warm day 

Coming out of a frost

I’m not even considered part of the garden

Just an unexpected pleasant surprise 

If I’m lucky I can be a flash

Of violet in a scabbed landscape

Stripped down, picked clean of its bounty

By hordes of hungry wanderers.

I’ve plucked each precious petal

For safekeeping. 

But you must hurry—

Most of this light touches us

Only briefly before it reflects

Back on a long retreat

To its place of blinding mystery

4/20/26