Categories
Poetry

The Muse Revisits

Every spring,
            the muse returns with energy
     to her castle
     to open the secret corridors
     closed up all winter
                 –            only she knows
     the secluded passageways
hidden behind tapestry
             beneath growth
             between books

In spring she dares to whisper
    for winter’s fortress, now melted away
       lays her skin’s secrets bare
               her privacy tethered in silk      
    translucent in the light
                   hair of gold, breast of milk
       lips are loose, hips tight
  sins of youth, wrongs right
she kisses the mind
                   and spins her threads
                       day into night

Categories
Poetry

Renewal of Winter

Friday March 13th
brings an ostentatious snow
one more winter show 

Categories
Poetry

Precipitation

Spring rain washes ‘way
last year’s odd residuals
feelings that won’t stay

Categories
Poetry

Bloodroot

(Alternative title: Restless)

I’ll know spring is here
by the white-petalled flowers
like hiked high-waisted skirts
adorning leaf-green pelvises
emerging from a brown carpet of decay
leaves drained of their autumn exuberance
lazily revealing themselves
after winter’s white-blanketed sleep
then pushed aside without a peep
as through the beige come greener things
a trillium stalk and spotted trout lily
herb Robert and Virginia waterleaf
Virginia springbeauty and black raspberry
early blue cohosh and early meadow-rue
cut-leaved toothwort and my favourite, bloodroot

I’ll stop to pluck it from its orange tether
and snap the stem, a once small shoot
although it’s taken few weeks to grow
I rip it open and watch blood flow
this garish red unfit for skin
I smear on my wrists, as out, within
this little plant aglow with life
now bleeds as though clean cut by knife
and withering, dying in my hand
I toss it back to woods, to land
and with it, give a piece of me
a forest, springtime offering
a special elemental promise
thank you for appearing five
space, earth, water, wind and fire
in this time and in this wood
I’ll appear emptiness as I should
and until this winter fades away
with flowers in my mind, I’ll play