As Yet Unblemished By Pure Beauty
As Yet Unblemished By Pure Beauty
That time has come in nature’s year;
That best time of all, the barren time;
That time of nothing yet but promise;
That time of the pure hope:
Late February,
unblemished by Spring’s harsh actualization,
her first hints in this time of new light,
Skunk Cabbage stirring in frozen swamps
and Redwings in marshes,
her Promise soon to be kept in perfect beauty
unbearably aching with the certainty of loss.
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