Friday, April 26, 2013

30 poems in 30 days: 26

Though the clouds are threatening in the background, the sun is out, the temps are up, the trees must be budding (because it's a sneeze fest), I see plants thrusting up from the newly manured earth -- it's looking like it might ACTUALLY be Spring around here.  For real.

Someone said in the cafeteria, though, that graduation might be 39 degrees with sludgy rain. What?

I am going to put that gossip out of my mind and write my 26th poem.



Late April, the campus waking
at last, sod breaking into
green fingers, I see through dirty windows

a squadron of sleek pelicans,
five or six of them flying in formation,
long white wings dipped in black,

soaring and diving in tight figure 8s
over an invisible river,
moving together in the sky’s sudden blue like

a joyful promise, a liquid arrow,
a map for the spirit, irrefutable proof of some 
grand and casual design.

No comments: