3.29.2009

Spring


The carrots are born and the rabbits
are dying. The root came up--
crayon orange, firm with promise--from
the dry rows just off the porch.

Over the fence the neighbor's pool
has claimed another rabbit. Face first
like a fish. Still as a lily pad.
Her nose does not know
the riches are ready.






photograph by Emily McPhie

6 comments:

Mr. Apron said...

I think that's the best poem about spring I've ever read. It reads like a piece of music, albeit a disturbing one.

Take THAT, Vivaldi.

Nick (CFKS) said...

Good poem.

Kate Horowitz said...

Awwwww, you guyyssssss.

(Bite my shiny metal ...flute... , Vivaldi.)

emily said...

Oh Kate, I love that so much!

Hope all is well with you. Hope I get to see you sometime soon.

P said...

I love "still as a lily pad."

Kate Horowitz said...

Emily--

I miss you guys! Hope all is well out in AZ, aside from the bunny casualties. With any luck I'll get to see you all at some point this year.

xoxo
kate


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