Ars Poetica
Nothing is so beautiful as spring
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush
--G.M. Hopkins
Nothing is so terrible as spring
when blooms, in trees, fret sky and psyche and lung
and dirt smells of lemon
when we dig out weeds.
Cut lilacs. All flowers always dying
sweet and rank.
Poems too. Dying
sweet and rank in spring.
