March 1st -- in like a lamb

Sunny side up: On the first day of March, the first yellow crocus in my balcony garden unfurled in the warm sunshine.

I, too, "unfurled" a bit while working outside as I finally was able to remove one layer: the fleece beneath the Gortex. Alternating between being overdressed and underdressed for the weather -- a sign March has arrived.

First Crocus
©Christine Klocek-Lim (source: November Sky, 2006 poems)

This morning, flowers cracked open
the earth’s brown shell. Spring
leaves spilled everywhere
though winter’s stern hand
could come down again at any moment
to break the delicate yolk
of a new bloom.

The crocus don’t see this as they chatter
beneath a cheerful petal of spring sky.
They ignore the air’s brisk arm
as they peer at their fresh stems, step
on the leftover fragments
of old leaves.

When the night wind twists them to pieces,
they will die like this: laughing,
tossing their brilliant heads
in the bitter air.

Comments

[Tess]

Lovely poem. The daffodils around my front door are... nearly... unfurled... not... quite...