October, what will you bestow? Youâ€™ve left
the tulips and long daffodils unborn,
and spreading ferns aloof in darkest glens;
your brown leaves have revealed a scarlet thorn
to snag the frosty mornings. Mallards will
not light upon the weir, and open skies
remove their lightest blue. The fallow rose
is waiting for the spring–and like my eyes,
discolored branches search for green. Iâ€™ll count
the small supernal stars that heaven yields
until the dismal gray has passed, then smile
when Mayâ€™s sweet-smelling earth perfumes the fields.
“Waiting for Spring” was first published by The Pregnant Moon.