Poem of the Day
Today I'm pretending it's summer (even though spring is barely beginning to start). It's supposed to be in the 50s and not rain (or snow, for that matter). I'm having people over for dinner and grilling burgers and making strawberry shortcake (among other things).
I found this poem, originally published in Poetry magazine, at The Poetry Foundation.
Last Spring
By Gottfried Benn
Fill yourself up with the forsythias
and when the lilacs flower, stir them in too
with your blood and happiness and wretchedness,
the dark ground that seems to come with you.
Sluggish days. All obstacles overcome.
And if you say: ending or beginning, who knows,
then maybe-just maybe-the hours will carry you
into June, when the roses blow.