the 49th spring

is the one that first comes too early
and then waits too long to deliver

green promises that blindly hover
in too tight bud inside too hot days

followed by darkness that freezes
and forms brittle patterns on glass

that holds you in more than it allows you
to see out and you watch as every bowl

in the house fills with words that are
all the wrong shape and the only one

that makes any sense at all is rage
and perhaps a little bit, disappointment

and it’s not like you didn’t know
this day would come, it’s just that

no one ever tells you that when spring
turns to summer it is time to set seed

or at least they never tell you how much
work that is, all that energy spent just

so tiny bits of something will carry on
after you die and besides it is simply

much more fun to be a flower




A poem a day for 30 days.
In honor of National Poetry Month
this post is part of NaPoWriMo. see more here.
Also joining in the fun at dVerse poets Poetics, join us!

18 Responses to “the 49th spring”

  • Michael Says:

    That 49th spring is a difficult one. When Springtide changes her mind from cold to warm, and back again, we forget that it always was like this. It is simply a season in the neverending season of forevernow.

  • claudia Says:

    nice… i once heard a very cool speech about the season’s in a woman’s life..guess there are also seasons in a poet’s life..and i def. agree on your flower closure..smiles

  • honey Says:

    totally much more fun to be the flower….or to be a baby…!

  • Pat Byers (Tilda) Says:

    everything Michael said, amen.
    yesterday, i heard the song again, and sat barely breathing to take in the words…
    The Rose. the ending, with the springs warm…becomes the rose. i always loved that song.
    in fondest, Tilda

  • laurie kolp Says:

    Wow! The hot and cold flashes, the temper and anger… definitely not a fun season, but sadly is a part of life… you have captured it so beautifully here. Love the metaphor with the flower, too.

  • brian miller Says:

    it is much more fun to be a flower and cared for and watered…than to know you must continue on and plant and care yourself…and it is hard grueling work at times….nice honest write…

  • aprille Says:

    It’s still 40-something 🙂
    Nothing mediocre about your poems,
    nor about the comments you leave on my blog. Thank you.

  • Debi Says:

    your heart doesn’t age, not the important part, anyway. not the love part, not the still wanting to see out part. it is the same, perhaps more tender with the knowledge of all those other springs. next spring you will look back at all the flowers you really were this spring. xoxo

  • Chazinator Says:

    Changing into who we should be is indeed an obligation, but not at the expense of being who we should be. I thought of lilies of the field and no care for tomorrow when I read your wonderfully crafted poem. That is such a revolutionary way of looking at life, though, coming from a higher state of awareness, perhaps after the tilling and reaping have occurred. Excellent write.

  • hedgewitch Says:

    Amen on the flower–we’re both working the garden metaphors today aren’t we? It’s a rich field for you here, and every stanza has a little bloom of meaning, along with one of those barbed seeds that stick to the fur. I like the slant rhymes, and the clean tight language you’ve chosen a lot. Very effective.

  • Marcie Says:

    The good news about the 49th that it’s followed by the 50th! Lots and lots of new growth still to appear…

  • Manicddaily Says:

    It is more fun to be the flower but, well, takes those doing the work too! (I’ve lived with some flowers! And I don’t mean my beautiful daughters!) Beautiful sound here and very original approach. K.

  • Stuart McPherson Says:

    Really nice…there’s a metaphor (for me anyway) about life’s choices, and how sometimes we’d like to know how and what the hell we are supposed to do. Sometimes like will be kind, start to warm, and then without warning it gets cold again- exactly like that middle ground between sping and summer. Great work

  • Mary Says:

    This definitely is a strong poem. I like it! Picturing all the bowls in the house filling with words that are the wrong shapes, etc. — whew! I would guess the 49th summer is your 49th year. And yes, life is a lot of work, and we do hope that the good that we do in some way lives after us when we die.

  • ayala Says:

    Honest and beautiful write, I love it.

  • Anna Montgomery Says:

    A poem full of sagacity and picture perfect imagery. I wish I had a helpful suggestion about the end line but my Sunday ran away from me. I find it helpful to let it sit and to come back to it a couple weeks later (one of the down sides of NaPoWriMo) and generally find I have a fresh idea or am satisfied.

  • wholly jeanne Says:

    too true. all of it, sugar. xo

  • Noel Says:

    This freakin’ nails the feeling I’m all tangled up with, not just with the seasons, but with everything.

I cherish your comments...