It is almost spring
and I have just come home,
having just been there,
like those black-necked geese
flying home to home.
There the robin had arrived
clumsy and bold-breasted
on the last snow
that came
like the first.
Here the robin stayed
small and poised
to see the winter through—
this bare, green winter
that would’ve been even longer
without it.
The doves welcomed me back,
side by side in the open sway of the lilac.
The blackbird teased with its company;
so often my only company.
This is some old writing, the opening pages of a journal I did while living in England, written after returning from a visit to the States. I offer it for all those who have, at some time, experienced being transplanted in one way or another.
©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.