First Green

They look like hope-
those first buds swelling,
with all the possibilities
of a life happily started
under a warming April sky
fed by vanishing March snow.

And I still hoped,
even as my roots told me
the earth is still cold.
The sun is lying.

I cannot lie.
I felt the buds
push towards the sunlight,
and dreamed
of the first green uncurling,

only to have
the March wind screech,
pulling me from dreams
to see stillborn green

devoured by a shroud of ice.


This poem was inspired by the prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Speaking For Spring's Stillborn Sprouts.

26 comments:

  1. This reads like tragedy.. the green giving way to ice.

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    1. Thanks Kerry. I had hoped it might.

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  2. Goodness, your speaker is singing my feelings aloud. I, too, was so happy to see spring arrive early, to see bits of green peek at snow... It was hard to think of ice when spring felt real, but the ice wasn't fooled... and neither will be the unborn fruit.

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  3. So true! Hope of green frosted over because Winter wants to prove something.

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    1. It's just the first bit of Spring too. I worry how this will effect the rest of the growing season.

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  4. Vividly described, and applicable to not just the botanical, but the human condition--too much blighting going around these days, in my opinion...

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    1. I hadn't intended it that way, but you aren't the only one who made that observation (I shared this piece in a group as well). I'm glad it has meaning beyond my original envisioning.

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  5. Powerfully penned and full of metaphor for NOW.

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    1. I am glad that it reads that way.

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  6. The crux, for me, is here:
    "The sun is lying.

    I cannot lie."

    LOVE.

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  7. This feels like a Shakespearean tragedy.. such luscious diction here, Rommy.. sigh especially love the closing line; "only to have the March wind screech, pulling me from dreams to see stillborn green devoured by a shroud of ice." Beautifully penned.

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  8. So sad, encouraged to bloom, and then struck down.

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  9. Where is hope when hope is eaten?

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    1. Ever the optimist, I hope for it to have a chance to bloom again, even though it is quite likely it may not come back as strong as it could have been.

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  10. The sadness in this goes beyond the bloom... maybe as a metaphor to futility of hope.

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    1. Yes, several people have made similar observations. It is one of my more bleak pieces. I'm glad I was able to express that.

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  11. Replies
    1. The issues of the world today invite stark imaginings.

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  12. From gentleness to horror. Very poignant.

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  13. Yes, it was such a tough punch spring took this year.

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    1. It certainly was. It doesn't bode well for the growing season.

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