Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.


Happy Vernal Equinox, y'all.

come spring
things will be different
I hope

bare toes and
green growing things
growing greenly

swoops of hyacinth
peeking crocus punctuation
lily bells ringing

these snow-covered aches
leftover pains from the frozen season
ease and melt

rush through newly porous earth
back to the dark molten source
beating in the center

a mantle of bursting buds
stretches over heavy grief-laden soil
dark roots hidden again

hungry depths go silent
fuel heaving striving upward grasps
chasing shadows with sun

a winter's rest
dreams of bright lights and warmth
traded for soggy truth

but still come spring
things will be different
I hope

1 comment:

jenbyers said...

This is lovely my dear...thank you.