Spring simmers beneath the snow
like subterranean hot springs.
Earth shivers, shooting daffodil spikes
through late winter’s crumbling crust.
New life is ready to blow,
shower the valley
with frothy white geysers
of apple blossoms.
For now,
spring simmers beneath the snow,
but in the bones of my feet
I feel the pressure
building.
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For a brief bio and to read more of Merrijane’s poetry on Wiz, go here.
*Competition entry*
Wilderness Interface Zone 
I like the startling imagistic quality of this poem. One season is intertwined with another. One part of nature, a geyser, becomes another, apple blossoms.
Each word counts in Anticipation.
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What caught my attention was the phrase “in the bones of my feet.” Something about the way that rolls off the tongue, with the long vowels and the sharp concluding ‘t’ makes it feel grounded, stable, secure, steady, rooted, solid…or something like that. Bones of my feet.
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The last three lines are awesome. You’re very good at structuring a poem to matter most at the end.
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For me, this was about our sort of removal from nature…asphalt between us and the wildness of the natural world, and yet we sense it and we are a part of it during salient times like spring, when we can’t help but feel (through asphalt, in the bones of our feet) the world waking up around us.
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