The Temperate Zones
Again and again, the calla lilies
Spring from the earth,
Just as all hope of warmth and joy
Recedes into desperation.
Tough winters deserve their end,
Though it is only a respite.
They will return and give relief
From a too hot season.
The patterns we have known,
The cycles of doubt and regret
Follow the seasons of abandon.
Golden grasses vibrate into green.
I will rejoice in the dark rains
Soaking the soil where buds push forth,
Carry dishwater during drought
To slake their thirst.