Friday, March 15, 2013

Amber Eyes

March mornings wear amber eyes under
which I, a flyspeck, am trapped in morning’s
honey-thickened glaze. I long to fly but my
wings are congealed, sticky-thick.

Winter ebbs, teases with the promise of spring yet-
to-emerge. Green-helmeted buds erupt, setting out
tentative antennae to one day sprout
their joy at life. They are frozen in time.

Crocus, daffodil, narcissus: I whisper their names.
For they are as stuck as I under winter’s heavy coat,
Stilled by snow's tempered passions, trembling
To melt in mud season's messy embrace.

The sun is pointing in the right direction.
Even hunched under the weight of gray gel,
life burbles, planning patiently a return to life.
I long for a glimpse: Crocus, daffodil, narcissus!

“Rise with us, robin,” they urge me. For I, too,
emerge with spring. "Open your wings.” Icy
memories last an unearthly moment until
Dawn's new amber eyes illumine my wakening.

~Robin Stevens Payes
March, 2013        

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