Rooting for Spring
Helga Kidder
. . . seeking wherever light blooms
“Vine” by Kim Stafford
“Vine” by Kim Stafford
Snow-clad Signal Mountain flickers
in the sun’s early rays. Standing
at the door I brace myself like the trees
stiff in icy hulls.
Seven years passed since my sister
shone her light through the scars
of my heart, listened to my groanings
while forgetting hers.
Tonight my poetry group will huddle
around the crackle of fire, the aroma
of sourwood, and share poems,
the warmth, the light of each line.
Blossoming flames will connect us
rooting for spring. One daffodil unfolded
next to the brick wall. Its golden color
lightens the shadows of last season.
in the sun’s early rays. Standing
at the door I brace myself like the trees
stiff in icy hulls.
Seven years passed since my sister
shone her light through the scars
of my heart, listened to my groanings
while forgetting hers.
Tonight my poetry group will huddle
around the crackle of fire, the aroma
of sourwood, and share poems,
the warmth, the light of each line.
Blossoming flames will connect us
rooting for spring. One daffodil unfolded
next to the brick wall. Its golden color
lightens the shadows of last season.
Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills with her husband. Her poems have recently been published in Orbis, Atlanta Review, Lit Shark and others. She has five collections of poetry. Her sixth collection, End with a Kiss, will be published this summer by Lit Shark.