Spring Squills

 

The first flowers of spring

in our yard

are the squills (scilla bifolia).

 

They pop up in the places we planted them

and in the places

where the squirrels moved them...

always surprises.

 

 

They grow in a circle under the crab apple tree

and in waves though the grass.

 

They don't stay long,

but long enough to comfort 

my heart's hope for spring.

 

Waiting for Winter to End

 

 

 

Waiting for Winter to End

 

Outside to the east,

my garden slumbers

under a mat of leaves,

still slick with the last

ice crystals of winter.

 

Not one crocus

pushes purple fingers

through a sleeve of snow,

to fling out its fist

full of robin song.

Not one.

 

And no hardy squill

splits the worn brown skin

of an old oak leaf,

to trumpet its fresh blues.

 

Inside to the west,

the sun coaxes ladybugs

out of the crevices,

away from their sleep.

 

I listen to them dancing

tap-tap-tapping

between the window panes.

 

I watch them whirling,

kicking up their heels,

clicking their red wings.

 

They are keeping time

as Spring hums her own

intoxicating tune;

this throb so ancient,

nothing can resist.

 

Words and photo are copyright ©Carol Steel.



 

 

 

 



Spring Blues

Spring Blues

In the morning

when I rise

to the songs of Nina Simone

and the burr of beans grinding,

to the fragrance of magic,

as it drips in my cup,

I look outside and see

the spring blues. 

The blue squills are

everywhere.

Some are where I planted,

most are rearranged

by squirrels.

Ah, the mornings of spring,

the drifts of blue stars

and Nina's voice, an aching fire,

and darkness steaming in my cup.

Spring morning…

dripping,

drifting,

singing

spring blues.

Words and photo are mine.  If you want to know more about Nina Simone, click here.  Squills in my yard are "scilla bifolia"; the squirrels change their locations where they will...always surprises.