Saturday, April 12, 2025

After Grief


We forget that spring comes
not all at once, in one
wide sweep of warmth
and green blanketing the ground,
but blossom by blossom,
and blade by blade,
beginning with a single
crocus creaking open
the hinges of its petals
in the chill darkness
before dawn one morning,
having sensed the barest
hint of sun still buried
like a bulb beneath
the horizon, and decided
that’s all the proof
it needs to say its own
small yes to life
in this new season.

--James Crews

[Photo of daffodils striving towards spring on this snowy April day].


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