This summer day, posed against orange
zinnias, red geraniums—its hot rivals
beyond the window glass—the flowering
trumpet offers winter’s gift of white light.
Through snow and sleet, while daffodils
and tulips shouldered upward against the earth,
it slept in the basement, bulb like an
overwintering onion nestled in a pot of dirt.
When I carried it into the sun, I heard
the whisper of the green stalk’s growing,
evolution’s secrets wakening from
their long slumber, felt in my bones something
stir, too strong for earth’s bounds—light from
a distant star a lifetime in arriving.
Poem by Connie Green
Connie Jordan Green lives on a small farm in East Tennessee. She is the author of two award-winning novels for young people, two poetry chapbooks, and two poetry collections. She is a newspaper columnist and frequently leads writing workshops. For more information, please visit her website, conniejordangreen.com.