"Last Spring"

 

Last Spring
By GOTTFRIED BENN

Fill yourself up with the forsythias

and when the lilacs flower, stir them in too

with your blood and happiness and wretchedness,

the dark ground that seems to come with you.

Sluggish days. All obstacles overcome.

And if you say: ending or beginning, who knows,

then maybe—just maybe—the hours will carry you

into June, when the roses blow.

Source: Poetry Foundation, Poetry (March 2011).

Morning Song

Morning Song

by Marcia F. Brown

Here, I place
a blue glazed cup
where the wood
is slightly whitened.
Here, I lay down
two bright spoons,
our breakfast saucers, napkins
white and smooth as milk.

I am stirring at the sink,
I am stirring the amount of dew
you can gather in two hands,
folding it into the fragile
quiet of the house....

read the rest of this gorgeous, gorgeous poem where I first discovered it, on The Writer's Almanac, August 5th, 2010