Monday, February 11, 2008

Secret Garden

I pull rusty leaves
from swelled earth. Tips of green
Crocus push impatiently at winter.
My sister will call.
She’ll say hers are blooming,

my bulbs are cautious.
Temperatures plunged
to zero last night. Tonight
the bulbs stir and stretch
under a white comforter of snow.

Not yet, not yet,
but soon.

I posted this at this evening, and figured might as well put it here too. If you haven't visited First50, it's a must-do for writers.

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