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Spring
by Ken HarnischShe taps at the doorstep, impatiently
And I am just as eager as she to open
The way to my heart again, but out in the back
The dust flies from the rugs of a dying season
And the witch who beats them raises clouds of stone
That threaten our affair.
When the witch sneers I fear she may
Revisit the worst of what she was, and be
Again, the killer of spirits.
But the trees
Do not hide and the flowers do not lie.
There is color on the lawn and my lover has
Returned, though stealthily, to whisper
In my ear and tantalize me with
Memories of my most willful seduction
I will sneak away if I must
But my lover is a persistent sort
Not turned easily aside by an icy glare;
Even those from witches.
And, being more attuned to
The cries of my muzzled heart, she knows
Byways to its core that only her brother,
The sun, knew heretofore how to reach.
I’d run eagerly to the door, but she knows it is always open. 04/18/2008 Posted on 04/18/2008
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/18/08 at 09:02 PM ...ken, i agree w/ barbara...i too love/live for spring--the harbinger of summer/new life etc...and i like the way you personified it/her...too cool! charlie |
| Posted by Melissa Arel on 04/19/08 at 01:19 AM you never cease to amaze ;) |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/19/08 at 03:22 AM You have created an intense relationship here. Although I also love Winter, I enjoyed your use of "witch" to give that season a very crafty, sneering presence. I particularly liked these lines - "There is color on the lawn and my lover has
Returned, though stealthily, to whisper
In my ear and tantalize me with
Memories of my most willful seduction". A most enjoyable read.
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| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 04/22/08 at 10:58 AM I fell into this, it fell into me...
I especially love the door always open, (she knows). Yes! |
| Posted by Lauren Singer on 04/24/08 at 01:35 AM mmm...what a snapshot. |
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