When spring comes

Snow melts and each word

from sputtering angry lips

melts into tulips

This kind of follows one of this week's prompt's from Big Tent Poetry. I'm having to resort to Haiku to keep this thing going!

April

It's not true that April enrages me.

I reserve my violent emotions for March,

that drunken bastard who stays too long,

and spews sloppy snow all over my shoes,

and slushes himself all over my lawn.

No, by the time April arrives,

I am done.

I am spent.

I'm too tired to shake my fist at an April sky.

March has worn me down,

softened me up,

so that by the time April comes round,

All he has to do is show me some tulips,

And just like that--

I

puddle

up.

This was written in response to Big Tent Poetry's prompt that asked us to start a poem with "It's not true that..."

Hinge

This week's prompt at Big Tent Poetry asked us to come up with our own holiday. I didn't come up with a specific holiday, but I thought of something to celebrate...

I would raise my glass
to all that go
from impossible
to inevitable
with no state of being
in between:
snow and tulips
babies and freckles
democracy and wrinkles
you and me

The Un-Zen Art of Mothering Tulips

I should have a more Zen-like attitude
toward tulips.
But I can’t.
My attachment is too great.
I spend the last trimester of winter
wanting
and filled with fear
that this will be the year
that they don’t come.

And when they arrive
I waste our time.
I know too much
from past experience
with baby toes
and baby fingers
and baby feet
that such pink softness,
such perfect curves
and folds
are much too sweet.

The heartbreak
is that they seem
to stay still
and rest themselves against
my grateful breast.
Happy, so it seems, to be at rest.
But no matter how tight
I swaddle,
they stretch out,
open up,
scatter their petals
to the worldly ground.

So I would like to say
my time with them is
spent in the now.
But it isn’t.
A mother’s love is all about
attachment.
And I haven’t found
the will
to release
the wanting
yet.

This is for NaPoWriMo Prompt#4.