deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Flower Out of Season
We waited for the winter;
drove an axe to wood’s heart,
scrubbed the lichen off a southern wall
An azalea holds a tiny yellow head high,
just as in spring;
a tomato, still, is trying to ripen,
potatoes, straggly now
hold up a green flag
One day soon we will sense the change -
a calm, a coolness
Then the black cloud will unroll from the south
What hope then, for a flower out of season?
drove an axe to wood’s heart,
scrubbed the lichen off a southern wall
An azalea holds a tiny yellow head high,
just as in spring;
a tomato, still, is trying to ripen,
potatoes, straggly now
hold up a green flag
One day soon we will sense the change -
a calm, a coolness
Then the black cloud will unroll from the south
What hope then, for a flower out of season?
Published 10th May 2019
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10th May 2019 12:11pm
"What hope then, for a flower out of season?"
... an increasing challenge for all life-forms.
Interesting poem and concept. Thought-provoking. Thank you.
... an increasing challenge for all life-forms.
Interesting poem and concept. Thought-provoking. Thank you.
10th May 2019 5:17pm
