Thursday, February 23, 2012

In the Usual Places

Though the crocuses poke up their heads in the usual places,
The frog scum appear on the pond with the same froth of green,
And boys moon at girls with last year's fatuous faces,
I never am bored, however familiar the scene.

When from under the barn the cat brings a similar litter,--
Two yellow and black, and one that looks in between,--
Though it all happened before, I cannot grow bitter:
I rejoice in the spring, as though no spring ever had been.

--Theodore Roethke

These weren't up yesterday!  




1 comment:

  1. Spring has come.
    No one knows how.
    --Antonio Machado

    When daisies pied and violets blue
    And lady smocks all silver white
    And cuckoo buds of yellow hue
    Do paint the meadows with delight...
    --Wm Shakespeare

    It was a shooting green spring morning, nimble and crocus...
    --Dylan Thomas

    Meagan, you shouldn't get me started. Here the grass greens again, again; a gang of robins in colors command the pasture; the fillies are itchy and the red-tails pack twigs. At night, the pygmy, short-eared and great horned owls thoroughly punctuate the first, tentative raspings of the frogs.