Love in Winter

 

I do not expect love to bloom in February,

like bulbs forced to blossom indoors.

Even the early crocuses wait for March.

In a sudden burst of hope

the dandelions came early.

Plucky flowers! Poking up their yellow heads

towards a promising sun,

that abandoned them to sudden frost and snow.

How in midwinter

can those of us who walk alone

through the candy-laden aisles

expect love to bloom?

Or if we do, or it does

we expect its sudden joy

to be crushed

beneath an onslaught of indifferent cold.

And so we haunt the barren garden,

the places where love might have grown,

or walk the night streets--

black and shimmering in their thin veil

of ice and snow,

and discover a narrow strip of ice

and slide with mirth

unshared, unwitnessed

into the star-pricked darkness.

Reviews

[Coco Haynie]

I just love the use of the word "Plucky" - I don't know why but it made this poem really stick in my memory. "Candy-laden" was a good one too. Neat piece. Very enjoyable and memorable.