.................................
a not-spring break in winter
.................................

if i close my eyes
and think of home this time of year
i see the green of winter grass
and waisthigh fruit tree miles
of long stemmed wild mustard
in orchard upon orchard hung
with the breathless bodies
of black sparrows
where the sap rises up
around the buds of pears-to-be
like tadpoles in a where-does-life-begin womb

but. no
this is not the birth of spring
just the false pregnancy
of a wishful winter who's eggs
have gotten far too old to hatch

.................................
LeeAnn Heringer
.................................

 
Copyright © LeeAnn Heringer
September 1996

...a poem in this room by katrina grace craig...
Crista's Drawings
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