can we push away
last year’s wet clogging leaves
long dead tulips we once held dear
but are now baggage on the way?
can we welcome the sunshine
as the clouds tumble playfully
and release a potted primrose
with roots diving long into springs
the forecast may say it is frost
a falling of cruel snowflakes
enough for us to pull on a winter coat
and standing tall will give a sore throat
but after a little breathless moment
there'll be a green shoot of petals
of the rose thrusting through the snow
with the ice-crusted path crushed
and the field of life is astonishing green
My Grandma once said,
from crouching and dark desolation
sweet showers spring melting
a chill felt through woolen sleeves
can we push away
last year’s wet clogging leaves
long dead tulips we once held dear
but are now baggage on the way?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem