What would the wind do
without the daffodils’ yellow
hoopla of blooms?
Tree leaves are still
packed tight as gunpowder
in their slim cartridges.
When the wind brings
the rumor of a storm,
only the rhododendron turns pale.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- January noon
- Primary sources
- Nuthatch
- Haustorial
- Walking the line
- Gospel
- Wildstyle
- Close to home
- Lay of the land
- Primary school
- Subnivean
- Secondary school
- Rabid
- Snow plow
- Breaking through
- Miner
- Bark Ode
- Snowfall
- Pastoral
- Sledding
- Valentine’s Day dreams
- Rabbit
- Deep snow
- Head cold
- Snow follies
- Thaw
- Reanimation
- Old snow
- Clearing
- Burning the tissues
- Filmstrip
- How to tell the woodpeckers
- Opening
- Winterkill
- Winter sky, age 5
- March
- Downsizing
- Makeshift
- Winter gardener
- Vessels
- Grand jeté
- Threnody
- Evergreens
- Slush
- Out
- Snowmelt
- Emergence
- In place
- Cold Front
- The death of winter
- Salt
- Harbingers
- Wintergreen
- Evolution
- Camouflage
- Spruce grove
- Waiting to launch
- Tintype
- Terminology
- In good light
- Reach
- Old field
- Rain date
- Onion snow
- Rite of spring
- Searchers
- Migrants
- Camberwell Beauty
- Lotic
- Empty
- Walking onions
- Trailing arbutus
- Risen
- Remnant
- Sleight-of-hand
Great poem, spare and visual. I especially like the middle stanza. While reading this I was listening to the news on BBC Radio 4. There was an item about resisting the spread of invasive alien plant species, and as I came to the word “rhododendron” I heard the rumour that this is one of the genera that may be outlawed.
Thanks. Yes, it’s very invasive in the UK, but here, so far we only have the native species (knock wood); the ornamentals haven’t proved very aggressive.