Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

Should Be Spring

by Thomas Horton

Wee snowflakes linger like diamonds on daffodils
Each one a miracle forged by the hands of God’s tiniest minions
At play in the bleary clouds

A fat-breasted robin ripe with unlaid eggs
Bounds with purpose and pecks at the hard frosty ground
Unsatisfied, she continues her patient search

The brilliant green blades of the tulips stand icy guard
Keeping cached their beckoning scarlet cups
Until a more welcoming climate evolves

Silver clouds on a palette of white
The deceptive brightness of the overcast
Pierces my eyes
And my breath escapes as a conspicuous cloud from my face

I pull at my scarf muttering a playful, unmeant curse
Reveling in guilty secret
At the magnificence of what should be spring

Added: 01.02.2009