April,
I am starved for light,
bring
a little, please,
to
the window
where
I can see summer
lolling
about the hills afar off.
Ah,
yes, I see her now,
shoeless
in leaves of grass,
picking
blackberries,
Sonnet
18 nearing couplet.
April,
you’re a long way from summer,
but
at least I can see her from here.
©
2017 Jennifer Wagner
“Distinctive
realms appear to us when we look and hear by poem-light.” - Jane Hirshfield,
Ten Windows. Happy Poetry Month with appreciation
to poems by Sandburg, Heaney and Shakespeare.
It may not be warm but we DO have all this daylight. It fills me with hope.
ReplyDeleteSummer was my season too...
ReplyDeleteI love poems that personify time and seasons - and you have done that beautifully here. A stunning little poem with wonderfully sketched images. I am truly in that - summer-can't-get-here-fast-enough - head space and thoroughly enjoyed this. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteyou won't believe it but we had even snow here last week - spring and summer though will come eventually - i so need need some sun as well...
ReplyDeleteAh, the sense of a season, so well seen, Jennifer.
ReplyDelete__ Winter can be cumbersome here, but Spring, Summer and Fall, bring different magic into every imagination. _m
Yes, sun please! I like how you wrote this, kind of playful but sincere.
ReplyDeleteSoon...soon..sigh.
ReplyDeleteMay your tomorrow be bright :) ~
ReplyDeleteThis is gorgeous and brilliant…and I love how you open your poem!
ReplyDeleteMay is here, with all the light you might crave... actually I'm soon hungry for night
ReplyDeleteThat's lovely.
ReplyDeleteJust found your page, and I am loving it already.
ReplyDeleteSpring comes slowly here in Maine, but I am sure we enjoy it more because of that.
I love all the sounds, such as "Sand shifts this brittle, black driftwood mood." And I love the surprising shift to the beautiful last part. The perfect poems for a mother, I suspect: wing tips etched by her sanderlings.
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