by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator
March came bounding in last Friday, and in typical March fashion, the new month brought a reminder that winter is still upon us. The ground here in southern Missouri was white with a thin covering of fresh snow yesterday morning, and it has become and remained intolerably cold. Rosie and I are hunkered down indoors patiently awaiting spring.
Spring is coming, although the groundhog this year proved to be a lying bag of codswallop. We have several groundhogs burrowed in around the Roost, and none of them could have possibly seen their shadows on Groundhog's Day because the entire day was thickly overcast and forbidding. Spring should have been imminent - but that didn't happen!
Spring has put forth a few feelers through the lingering winter. A couple of days ago I noticed that the lilac bush is budding, and many tulips, narcissus, and daffodils have poked up through the hard ground, - but now they all seem to have stopped in their debuts and appear to be reconsidering the timing of their annual obligation to burst forth in bloom.
But, hey, March by tradition and the calendar begins with winter and ends with spring - or, as they taught those of us of a certain age while in elementary school, March comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb.
Here then is a welcoming poem for the lion that is early March. It is entitled "Lion" and was written by Massachusetts poet Paul Hostovsky. In this verse Mr. Hostovsky cleverly conflates gazelles and lions with speeding motorists and state troopers, and the result is a splendid reminder of the animal in all of us. Please enjoy the "Lion" and know that the lamb is waiting to enter just off stage!
Lion
by Paul Hostovsky
Poetry Appreciator
March came bounding in last Friday, and in typical March fashion, the new month brought a reminder that winter is still upon us. The ground here in southern Missouri was white with a thin covering of fresh snow yesterday morning, and it has become and remained intolerably cold. Rosie and I are hunkered down indoors patiently awaiting spring.
Spring is coming, although the groundhog this year proved to be a lying bag of codswallop. We have several groundhogs burrowed in around the Roost, and none of them could have possibly seen their shadows on Groundhog's Day because the entire day was thickly overcast and forbidding. Spring should have been imminent - but that didn't happen!
Spring has put forth a few feelers through the lingering winter. A couple of days ago I noticed that the lilac bush is budding, and many tulips, narcissus, and daffodils have poked up through the hard ground, - but now they all seem to have stopped in their debuts and appear to be reconsidering the timing of their annual obligation to burst forth in bloom.
But, hey, March by tradition and the calendar begins with winter and ends with spring - or, as they taught those of us of a certain age while in elementary school, March comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb.
Here then is a welcoming poem for the lion that is early March. It is entitled "Lion" and was written by Massachusetts poet Paul Hostovsky. In this verse Mr. Hostovsky cleverly conflates gazelles and lions with speeding motorists and state troopers, and the result is a splendid reminder of the animal in all of us. Please enjoy the "Lion" and know that the lamb is waiting to enter just off stage!
Lion
by Paul Hostovsky
The gazelles
speed by in their
huge metallic herds
on both sides
of the highway.
The solitary,
powerful nomad
hunting them
with his radar gun
crouches behind
some trees in the median.
Out of the corner
of her eye she sees him
too late--his eyes
already flashing
in her rearview,
her heart leaping
like an antelope
pronking in her chest
as she flees among
the other antelope,
hoping it isn’t her
he will outrun,
overtake, pull over
the rumble strip
to the shoulder,
his grille breathing
hot on her tail lights,
taking his time
writing her up,
her doe-eyed
hazards blinking.
No comments:
Post a Comment