Ode to the Wild Daffodil After Ross Gay Come, rise, my friends! The season has shown her fertile belly, turned her deep skin, and now a new portion is facing the sun! Come, join me! Our time growing underground has come to an end, face the world with me! Open your faces to the bees and butterflies and hummingbirds and gnats and let them sing you everywhere! I know you’re scared, terrified to stick your stems out into the air, terrified of frost and collapse and wind and rabbits and I know there’s nothing I can do to change or quell that which you fear. But I know, no, I promise, that we’ll rise together, into a new season. ** Clippers My heart is a pair of hedge clippers wielded by a crow who simply…
“Thistled Spring,” by David Norwood
Robin perched in her tree and frantically counted the eggs in her nest. She feared she had taken too long hunting for worms which in turn gave other creatures ample time to steal her eggs. But, it was just too damn hard to find any food. The ground was as hard as a brick and the grass as thick as a jungle. Why couldn’t it rain just a little to help loosen the soil, or why couldn’t someone cut the grass and drive those worms out of the ground for her, she thought. Was a little help too much to ask for? But, all four eggs were still nestled together just as she had left them, and her worry began to ease. She then scanned her immediate surroundings for any signs of intrusion. Claw marks? Chipped bark? Broken limbs? Mangled nest? Had some miscreant been lurking while she was away, it would most likely return later that night. But,…