Yes, the soft drills of the jonquils
churn though moist earth again. Yes,
again. Grass blades are reborn
from forgiving ground. Yes.
Yet every year, spring speaks
more eloquently of loss.
Fresh buds utter warnings
of late frost, and in each new shoot
the devouring insect thrums.
We know where every blossom leads,
how the body one day undresses
down to bone. Yes, this season
we have loved and leave too soon.
—Mary Fell (Wayne County)
Mary Fell is surprised to find herself still in Indiana more than thirty years since she came here from New England for a one-year teaching job. She teaches at Indiana University East in Richmond, where she lives with her three cats.