I Wasn't Prepared for an Early Spring
I wasn't expecting the dogwood
to welcome me in her snow white wrap
of light, or for a black-eyed
Susan with her slender build
to climb the fence so eagerly, leaning
over into the arms of another
climber, the clematis jackmanii
--a sun lover who emerged
from the soil earlier this year.
I didn't expect for these fireworks
of blooms, my Mexican sage
throwing out long trajectories
of lavender velvet. How my fingers
hungered to trace them, the way
they love to map the soft slopes
of your powdered cheeks.
I wasn't expecting to be loved.
Your sudden change surprised me,
but why shouldn't happiness come
without an invitation, like orange blooms
of butterfly weed rising unexpectedly
from the ground, their seeds blown in
from god knows where? After all,
who gave the wisteria permission
to unloose her long tresses
of perfumed hair?
Note: this is a poem, once published, now revised
Poets post their works-in-progress here for crit and commentary. We want poets who are serious about getting their work published.
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