Cry Of The Crocuses Poem by Janet Cannon

in the back yard garden under
the kitchen window the crocuses

have arrived donned in deep purple
white yellow and mauve shawls they

are peeking above the moist ground
announcing spring is here quietly

inviting the change to warm day
attire like a visual telegram reminding

us that cold and insensitive time
are waning happily their bursting

blossoms like nature’s jack in the
box surprise in technicolor their petals

leafed in mortal fragility expose
floral vulnerabilities after shades of

gray days in black and white frozen
nights inside stiff-lipped months gone

temporarily making way for the
enticing passions of summer air we

forget in winter before the crocuses
cry like a love song for the season