Happy Spring! Here's one of my favorite poet's takes on:
"SPRING
snow thick and wet, porous
as foam rubber yet
crystals, an early Easter sugar.
Twigs
aflush.
A crocus
startled or stunned
(or so it looks: crocus
thoughts are few) reclines
on wet crumble
a puddle of leas. It
isn't winter and it isn't spring
yes it is the sun
sets where it should and
the east
glows
rose. No
Willow."
[The snow has all pretty much disappeared around my part of Jersey, but only a few weeks ago is was everywhere still, and only days ago there were still small mounds here and there leftover from small mountains of it where the plows had pushed a parking lot full—Jimmy captures the in between state of this moment succinctly, and even the grammar and punctuation (let alone the line breaks) reinforces the imminent "coming-alive"-moment aspect of this time of year, at least here in the Northeast...]
One of my very favorite poets.
ReplyDeleteOur spring here in Australia comes with much less of a flourish, Michael, as we don't get snow, but still it is a joy to behold.
ReplyDeleteThis is a terrific poem, as you say one whose grammar matches the season.
Great Poem, Michael, Thanks! Here's one I've long liked, by Tu Fu, translated by Kenneth Rexroth:
ReplyDeleteWRITTEN ON THE WALL
AT CHANG’S HERMITAGE
It is Spring in the mountains.
I come alone seeking you.
The sound of chopping wood echoes
Between the silent peaks.
The streams are still icy.
There is snow on the trail.
At sunset I reach your grove
In the stony mountain pass.
You want nothing, although at night
You can see the aura of gold
And silver ore all around you.
You have learned to be gentle
As the mountain deer you have tamed.
The way back forgotten, hidden
Away, I become like you,
An empty boat, floating, adrift.
Dear Lal--Tu Fu's imagery is hard to beat. But here's another spring poem that's not too shabby either. It's by e.e.cummings. Enjoy.
ReplyDeleteBob B.
in Just--
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee