Warm Earth

So ... erm ... before I was so rudely interrupted by the arrival of 'Dart' (a relief really, seeing as how the launch is only a week away), I was talking about my local wood and how spring is beginning to shoulder its way out into the open.  Here's a poem I wrote about the wood at the cusp of winter and spring three years ago.   

Warm Earth

Before celandines

fasten their buttons

before anemones

embroider themselves

the scent of warm earth

and a charge of wild garlic

shocks the woodland

from its trance

fires the sap in limbs still

callipered by winter

©Deborah Harvey 2010, 2013