In my yard, unsteady, I’ve taken my first steps since October. Winter’s glories abound, and its desolation… Winter’s Feast At winter’s feast, I drink the yellow jasmine – Paint my lips with blood-pink bloom – Rub my hands with Rose of Mary; In their rooms, dear pansies flirt and swoon. At winter’s feast, I touch the veined hydrangea – Dress my hair with leaves …
January 10, 2021
by jenniferpuryear