Crocus Woke Us
Clumps of golden crocus erupt,
Bursting through cedar mulch, their flowers cupped,
A bit late for spring’s onset they interrupt,
Our reverie now an awareness abrupt.
Heather no longer flower alone,
As queen of my garden are dethroned,
By a modest bulb albeit in another zone,
Where tulips and daffies wait to flower full blown.
Before they do, a lone crocus purple,
Soon with like ones will be encircled.
Shyly offering the next show,
Its delicate beauty will linger and glow.
mrt/3-24-21
Copyright © M. Renee Taylor | Year Posted 2021
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