P O E T R Y

Nooning with Tulips and Bruin

A poem from the mountains

Bruin perched on deck railing: Photo by Ken Martin

In high mountain climes
spring is a fleeting fortnight
squeezed between ice and blooms

Snow crouches low
in the lee of blue spruce,
chickadee, nuthatch, grosbeak
peck about on patchy ground

Birds are on their own now
plump sunflower seeds from the feeder
taken down after a bruin paid an early call

Beneath the bedroom window shine
a coterie of bright tulips planted last fall
tall crests of vibrant orange, sunny yellow,
abiding red, and a head of dandelion white

Today I am like the tulips
nooning with petals closed
a clouded sky does not move us

We need the sun
to warm our hearts
feed our souls
open us to what might be

And when I do feel
the sun’s warmth on my skin
like the flowers
I turn to receive its gift