Hyacinth

bittersweet early bloomerdrunk on the blood of winterswollen in the sleeping soilto thrust a graceful, frilled neckthat soaks up the delight of the sunintoxicating passers by toswoon in half-sorrow longing the perfume cuts throughthe air like an errantdiscus thrown and then struckby the jealous windso sweetness springs fromthe grave where youth fell,to sorrow-seed the fallowContinue reading “Hyacinth”