Bud-Blossom-Spring
By Tim Gordon
Friend, listen to each bud beneath birthing,
Caressing cold into color, into texture and form,
Into green-leafing-life under snow and ice and frost,
Under red-clay earth, blossoming into what it was
Each time before each unfolding self, each time back
Whole notes, Sounds, and sweet airs, each time back
Spring, like nothing else in this world, or other—,
And everything
Caressing cold into color, into texture and form,
Into green-leafing-life under snow and ice and frost,
Under red-clay earth, blossoming into what it was
Each time before each unfolding self, each time back
Whole notes, Sounds, and sweet airs, each time back
Spring, like nothing else in this world, or other—,
And everything
Tim Gordon is a poet who published his seventh book, From Falling, in April 2017. His work has appeared in various journals including AGNI, Cincinnati Review, Kansas Quarterly, among others. He has received National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) and National Endowment for Humanities (NEH) fellowships. He divides his time between Asia and the Desert Southwest