Long Winter

So much I’ve forgotten
the grass

the birds
the close insects

the shoot—the drip
the spray of the sprinkler

freckles—strawberries—
the heat of the Sun

the impossible
humidity

the flush of your face
so much

the high noon
the high grass

the patio ice cubes
the barbeque

the buzz of them—
the insects

the weeds—the dear
weeds
—that grow

like alien life forms—
all Dr. Suessy and odd—

here we go again¬
we are turning around

again—this will all
happen over again—

and again—it will

Timothy J. Nolan

 
 
 
Learning, art, and culture — this poem by an established poet suggests how they are all around, even in our longing –especially in our longing — for a glimpse of green.  Want to connect with more folks who love artists/learners/longers?  Come to our events.

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