Vernal Equinox, Chicago
In the sunniest spot, near a sheltering wall,
galianthus blooms. A single cluster, glowing white
against dirt still grey with winter�s slight
accumulation: leaves and slush and all.
Further down, brave green shoots emerge
but half an inch, and stop, frozen in place;
we halt in that indeterminate space
one foot most eager, raised and on the verge �
the wind says no, cutting sharp and cold,
shoves us back; our fall will break a tender bud
on forsythia branch. Our quickened blood
slows down again; we fear we will grow old
waiting for spring, suspended on a taken breath.
It�s hard, this day, to trust in life renewed � not death.
March 20, 2013
(wrote this on the plane yesterday, didn't get a chance to post it 'til now...)