What were the flowers blooming then?
How does the dusty rain smell? When
does April come? And what is spring?
I have forgotten how to sing
and how to walk with naked feet.
I used to know these things. How sweet
my world, a world no longer there.
Bring back the hours, and take me where
I heard the magic word of Quiet--
and spun my dreams of endless night.
A golden firefly came to rest
once on the silky air; it pressed
its light against my trembling lips,
and then flew to my fingertips.
I held it up; I held the night.
And saw the world in its small light.
And then I let it fly away,
and went to live in endless day.
by Jane Stuart
ADDITIONAL POET'S CORNERS:
"Plant a Tree" by Lucy Larcom
"The Daffodils" by William Wordsworth
"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost
"Wintering Rosarians" by Gail Lemnah Barnett
"'Tis the Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore
"Autumn Chant" by Edna St. Vincent Millay
"The Fish" by Elizabeth Bishop
"Departmental" by Robert Frost
"City Flies" by Alan Van Dine
"My Neighbor's Roses" by A.L. Gruber