The poplar’s shadow on her hand
Indicates a tree in spring.
Willets, catbirds, and broncos all hear
Big-hipped nature dancing across the Rockies
Stripping and putting on the many faces of
A weather-beaten land:
Green, red, brown, and white,
The flag of summer on the horizon.
They are indivisible incompatibles,
This landscape and
The mutterings of a middle woman.
Her words lie naked in a field,
Lost in the grazing cows,
Being licked up and slobbered on
By their wide, warm tongues,
Always emphasizing individuality
And difference and commonality and similarity,
Exploring, teaching, imposing,
Crying, €œLook at me!
Learn from me!
Listen! €
The weather-beaten woman
Tanned, freckled, and dry,
Green, red, brown, and white €”
With wrinkles round her many-faced smile €”
Observes her fleeting springtime
And is always living tenderly.
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Laura is a mommy and sometimes writer who dabbles in gardening and the expressive arts. She says of this poem, “Back when I was in college I wrote a poem about spring in Utah as an homage to May Swenson. It’s a mash-up of titles of her work and bits of her prose and I thought it might be a good fit for Love of Nature month at WIZ.” You can read more of her stuff at A Motley Vision or Depressed (But Not Unhappy) Mormon Mommy. She is very excited for spring.
Wilderness Interface Zone 