Poetry Pick

IT'S TIME

by Marianne Vespry
Ontario, Canada

Small scattered suns,
bunches, banks of them,
fields of live gold-
every dandelion
in my world is flowering
Today.

In December I buy
diaries and calendars,
product of astonomers
(wise, from the East),
artists and printers,
transport and commerce,
from the lavish array
in the local bookshop.

Each year I write
in a shakier hand
on blank pages
on little squares
where I should be,
what I should do
Today.

Sometimes
I forget to look.

Every hand works
against the dandelions.
They steal place for root, jagged green,
small crowning sun.

On what calendar,
written in the heart of
what sun,
did each, all read
that they should bloom
Today?

From Tower Poetry, Volume 54 #1

 

Index Previous Pick