Cold Days Poem by Bob Bowers

Cold Days

Rating: 5.0


It is spring.
Daffodils erupt from snow-clouded earth,
Their yellow brightness brighter
Than the warming orb of sun
Afloat in blue-bespeckled sky.

It is sugaring time in New England.
Maples, with their sweet syrup flow,
Spill out their lives,
Bleed through taps and tubes,
Sap distilled by fire to sweet-delicious gold.

Proud trees of our loins
In other lands
Give up, too, the sweetness of their blood
Fulfilling
One man’s dream.


4/7/07

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ben Gieske 11 October 2009

Very appealing to all the senses. The last stanza provides a lot to think about. It lingers in my mind.

0 0 Reply
Lillian Thomas 09 October 2009

good images, it's a strong poem.

0 0 Reply
Patrick McFarland 07 September 2009

Very nice Bob. Beautiful imagery that defines New England in the Spring time. 10

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