NaPoWriMo 1

Ugh. One down, 29 to go!


Thaw

How excited everything is to live
after so many long, cold months.

Even the crocuses begin the surface ascent,
the stems finding their pitch against a stiff April wind

while the birds sing their deliberate song for no one,
not even the world with all of its exaggerated beauty.

They are as much the notes not sung
as the ones that are. Let them praise only themselves,

and if the crocuses take credit, so be it.
Let them grip the wet dirt in their silent blooming.

Comments

evie said…
"let them praise only themselves // and if the crocuses take credit, so be it."

now on my list of lines i wish i'd written...

peace.
Odessa said…
i love the air of careless abandon in this poem! its so fitting of spring. and like evie, i wish i'd written those two lines too. =)
Anonymous said…
ready, set, go! i like the thought of things surfacing. very good metaphor for spring and napowrimo.
Allyson said…
Every single Ohioan is feeling the way you do right now . . . At least, I am, and I feel pretty qualified to speak for the rest of my state. :)
Ananda said…
happy national poetry month. the whole poem is juicy. my favorite line is at the end. ....

Let them grip the wet dirt in their silent blooming.

it makes me sop up the whole poem like i am dipping my biscuit in gravy... enjoying the entire journey....

sorry i have been mia. will do better with reading and posting comments regularly.

peace and poetry, ananda
January said…
Ananda, please! You are talking to the queen of not visiting blogs like she should.

Remarkably, I'll be by regularly in April.

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