Monday, February 26, 2018

A hint of sweetness (Day 404)

Winter is sleeping 
off an angry outburst 
now  its freshness faded  
and spring’s impending 
buds  sensing the end 
of long cold nights are 
forcing fall’s final leaves 
from their branches  
sending them flying 
toward the estuary  
striped gray and brown 
by three weeks of rain  
flooded with runoff 
from the foothills 
that glow like autumn 
in late afternoon 
when the fog breaks and
sunlight strokes last year’s 
storm-flattened grasses   
nomadic summer migrates 
northward now  fluttering  
open-ended  shallow  
but still in a deep sort of way 
and  straining toward it 
with open-mouthed desire 
we  confined to our nests  
yearn to grasp the slightest
wafer of warmth  a hint 
of sweetness in the air  
dreaming of bees humming 
over a bank of tiger lilies 
and heavy-headed peonies 
kissing the chalky gravel walk

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: John Singer Sargent, Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (ca.1885), 
oil on canvas, photo courtesy Tate London/Wikimedia Commons