#crocus
A crocus dormant
Comes to life end goal in sight
Breaks the earth to spring
Dec 30, 2025
Dec 30, 2025 at 3:03 PM UTC
Two crocuses
Have the whole garden
To themselves.
The mousetrap
Is snapped shut
And empty.
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 8:59 PM UTC
I see
freshly picked produce in
even slices atop white plastic stained
by multicolor droplets.
The colors blend like plants under packed ice.
Later, I'm walking,
and I'm reminded of an espresso machine's
buzz. Of my childhood,
family dog cuddling close,
of Warm.
Back in the kitchen, where the produce sits,
there's a dead zebra fly on the snow-lined windowsill.
Not farther, there's a dead basil plant, stuck
in its ***
If I let it free, if I watered the plant, if I, if I, if I...
But it's early spring, I'm reminded.
Under my feet, crocuses bloom.
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 11:27 PM UTC
Gray poems
started January 24th, 2021
There are poems
that are easy to share
that want to be seen-read-heard
then there are other days
when gray skies
reflect my gray disposition
silent be silent
say the critical voices
don't scar the world
with ___this___
and so my mark on this world
has often been
one of absence
but to deny these gray poems
is to deny myself
is to deny the crocus
blooming through the snow
for if I don't give expression
to all of it including the gray
then the beauty in me
also stays hidden
unexpressed-unrealized-unknown.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 9:30 AM UTC
Purple crocus smiles
Its greeting gives me hope
Spring will soon be here
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
White-furred hill flowers bow
Gust-bent,
Wet in April snow,
Lavender beneath their
Downy coats.
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
Blustering.
Quaking aspens,
Earliest to leaf in yellow-green,
Curling grama grasses,
Tough food for buffalo,
Cannot boast first life each Montana spring;
Only zombie-lichens,
Rock-fast mosses
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.
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 8:36 AM UTC