Summer from winter, Damaris West (March 2026)

 

Summer from winter

Never has a winter seemed so long.
I walk in darkness when I walk outside
and trees are hung with wet instead of leaves.
I can only think of little winds that slide
across the floor of orchards full of daisies,
trailing threads like the shimmer of a snail.
I think of foot-hot soil along field edges
and speedwell shedding all its lovely frail
blue butterflies of flowers in the grass.
I think of stirring leaves that bring the light
back and forth like an eye that stares and shuts.
I think of scarlet poppies, and the sight
of sea, a faint mirage beyond the corn,
and larks that melt away into their song.
But summer draws no nearer for my thoughts.
Let me be patient; let me only long
for the nearer daffodil and celandine;
and let my dreams have other shades than green.