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Meadow in Spring

by Gregory Orr

Gregory Orr

Between the warm wind's
thumb and finger
each bud's rubbed.

And look, indefatigible
saplings
poke through
the soggy tombstone
of a mattress
lovers dragged here
summers ago.




Quotes of the Day

There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not.
• Francois de La Rochefoucauld


Poems of the Day
  • Carl Sandburg
    Humdrum
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    IF I had a million lives to live and a million deaths to die in a million humdrum worlds, I’d like to change my name and have a new house number to go by each and every time I died