Inches Of Mercury Poem by Whit Leyenberger

Inches Of Mercury



The daylillies came in first, anxious
for ions. Then Anna’s sun freckles
on the back porch for an electric matinee.
Darkening hands cradle the almost April rain
while ants flee the blessings of collision.
Caterpillars whisper diddies of forgotten falls as
God’s ineffable smirk lingers in ascent until
spring arrives like a finally brass band.

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