Poetry Pick

THIS IS THE SEASON

by Wendy Visser
Ontario, Canada


This is the season
when the sun
hangs over the earth
like the red womb
of an expectant mother
whispering words of encouragement
and from leaf and petal
rainbow heads push through
the black ooze of surrendered winter
in answer to her wake up call.

This is the season
when the moon
hovers in a fog-patched sky
like the unseen eyes
of camouflaged hunters
and hunger rises from
the cold debris of den and cave
stalks lanes and roads
flies from the limbs of silhouetted trees
and night is a symphony.

This is the season
when the stars
shimmer over parked cars
like fluorescent dots
on a road map to romance
and open windows reflect
the rolled down confidence
of lovers within who've survived
the shallows and shadows
of a season's past ungreening.

This is the season
when the wine runs mellow
the music floats on distant harps
and earth staggers under the weight
of bud and bloom.

From Tower Poetry, Volume 57 #1


 

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