17 october 2014, 11.57pm
for jeremy
i can’t hold it back,
i can’t hold any of it back.
everything is growing relentlessly green.
leaves won’t go back into their branches,
cotyledon sprout softly, stubbornly.
the wind blows,
baby lambs frisk,
birds sing,
hens hide their eggs.
and woodpiles grow smaller,
children grow suddenly taller.
the warmth and sun goad the days past
saying where now is your ice, where is your sting?
i can hear winter’s lightfooted step
now padding away on soft shadowy-grey haunches.
tadpoles grow legs,
the air grows less brisk,
the creek flows.
and i can’t hold any of it back.
i can’t hold it back.
as much as i cling, as strange as it seems,
all this green triumphs over the black.
© 2014 rosie schriever
