Sunday, March 3, 2024


Every year in March
I wait by the bare earth
for any sightings of your birth
bringing an ever increasing joy of abundance.
First there is a tiny sign, growing higher,
then a white tip and a white stem
comes first.
One beautiful little crocus
showing itself
then growing in a day
to be a little mauve bud,
then an open bloom,
then a few little buds around
and finally the sound of me
cheering the happy family.
(And cheering you old friend, 77 years again)
The annual arrival of Mauve Autumn Crocus

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