A whole new freshman class
of leaves has arrived
on the dark twisted branches
we call our woods, turning
green now—color of
anticipation. In my 76th year,
I know what time and weather
will do to every leaf.
But the camellia swells
to ivory at the window,
and the bleeding heart bleeds
only beauty.
"April" by Linda Pastan, from Traveling Light: Poems (W. W. Norton & Company, 2012 edition).Art credit: Untitled image of bleeding heart blossoms by unknown photographer.
What a coincidence! I was reading some Linda Pastan last night! poems from the collection PM/AM ... I like the "new freshman class of leaves," even though the scholastic metaphor isn't extended to other parts of the poem.
ReplyDeleteAnd of course, one cherishes the specificity of the camellia and the bleeding heart. I grew up in urban purlieux: I'm lucky if I can distinguish flowers from feathers!
Thank you for posting this poem.
Happy coincidence. Happy flowers. Happy spring, Thomas!
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