I spent the winter reading verse
Watching the wet snow
Bend fragile boughs
Petting my dark faced, calico cat
Separated from the world of trees:
Tassels of white pines
Feathery wings of cedar
Swags of blue spruce
I think in the Spring I will plant a garden
Canterbury bells, dianthus, delphiniums
Fringed by lavender plumes and lupine spikes
A bed of sweet woodruff
A patch of herbs:
Tarragon, lemon balm, and sage
A winter’s day wistful yearnings
For sweet, summer scents
Roses and honeysuckles
For the taste of the first fresh apples
Baked with cinnamon and cloves
I think of all the things
I want to do:
To touch
To smell
To taste
Or like the evergreens
Weighted with snow
Will these desires be entrapped?