Ten days until March arrives,
and already bloodroot,
toothwort, hepatica, deep
beneath the cold soil,
loosen the tight knots
of their winter dormancy,
tune to the old verdant call,
feel earth’s rotation,
the steady pull toward sun.
Neither last week’s snow
nor tonight’s ice storm
can slow the relentless
push of green tips, the reach
toward warmth and light.
Like Persephone, they
serve their sentence
in the dark regions,
stems, petals, leaves
alert to a silent reveille,
our bones, too, heeding
that sweet music.
Poem by Connie Jordan 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. Her work has been widely published in journals and anthologies. She frequently leads writing workshops. For more information, please visit her website, conniejordangreen.com.