White-furred hill flowers bow
Wet in April snow,
Lavender beneath their
Tender soldiers of spring
Grasp wind-blown gravel steeps,
Stand to beckon brown grass,
Soft-call the life in sapless trees
To ring with green again
Against Old Bully Winter’s
Earliest to leaf in yellow-green,
Curling grama grasses,
Tough food for buffalo,
Cannot boast first life each Montana spring;
Throw off winter’s death
Before the crocus' rise.
On eastern Montana hills
No street-hemmed dandelions
Colonize in chute-dropped ranks;
No time-tamed tulips
Live on wind-round knolls.
Here, the yucca’s bayonet-sharp ******;
Here, the wild onions’ scent-strong hold;
But these arrive after early chill,
Following the purple crocus on the hill.
Something I have been working on for over 20 years. Still not satisfied, as I cannot get the "life" on the prairies that I know needs to be present..... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dH2w9-Q-LRY has nice pictures of the crocus about which I am writing....