SPRING COMES SLOWLY
Spring comes slowly in these parts ~
Like an old woman in the produce aisle,
hungry for new asparagus and fiddleheads
suspicious of bright strawberries
too soon, too soon
Spring comes slowly in these parts ~
Like an old dog in the morning,
the scent of night’s rain
not yet enough to tease him
from his place by the woodstove
not yet, not yet
Spring comes slowly in these parts ~
Like bare trees with empty nests:
where are nature’s signs?
“Vacancy”
“To Let”
“Coming Soon”
Spring comes slowly in these parts ~
Sepia-toned,
a photograph of the old summer place
that was taken back before the war,
before the war,
before
Spring comes slowly in these parts ~
A lone woman walks with a dog
towards the shore along a muddy path,
past where the old summer place used to be,
looking for signs of Spring.
but Spring comes slowly in these parts,
Spring comes slowly to these hearts.
Nancy Duffy
This is lovely! The soft chiming with internal rhymes and the exact, precise choice of words. Wonderful imagery–I am right there with the writer.
A teacher of mine once said that only the writing that I was hesitant to share was actually worth sharing, that only what I felt was too private and too personal would be able to reach other readers. A lovely, lovely example of that philosophy. Very well done.
“too private and too personal” … you hit the nail on the head there, Larry.