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Spring Fever

Text of Poem

Sun-touched I sit on a
frail box beside the garden
tools waiting for the noon
whistle.

All around me spring sweats
in labor, I hear roots push
in deep tunnels, stir in a
bird’s egg, smell dew on a
thrust of buds, feel thorns
of a climbing rose.

How many springs lie piled in
the cellar of my mind, in baskets
of unplanted bulbs, dried seeds,
a litter of odds and ends of
withered trials? Now spring shines
again from green wisteria vines.

Sun-touched I sprawl, in slow motion
on honeysuckle clouds, deaf to the
growl of accusing bees.

First Line
Sun touched I sit on a
Original Pub Location
Original Publication Date
1968
Original Citation
Cottonwood Review 1968.
Complete Poems
202
Hearst Collections
Word Count
99
Poetic Form
open
Themes
Twitter Quote
All around me spring sweats / in labor