Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Our Celebratory Mother on the Vernal Equinox

With some hesitation She swirls
a big toe, and pulls out

crocus and daffodil. She shakes
the moths from petticoats, catches Her breath

and exhales against our own rejoicing
skin to bring to memory:

cotton tufted clouds, the crosshatch of linen
branches clothed in green eyelet, and the singular

delight of again donning a bright
yellow sash, if only for the hours

of a day that dances barefoot
with the couplet hours of night.

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