Inside Nan: Some Windows and Spring

May Sarton: Of Havens

Though we dream of never having a wall against

All that must flow and pass, and cannot be caught,

An ever-welcoming self that is not fenced,

Yet we are tethered still to another thought:

The unsheltered cannot shelter, the exposed

Exposes others; the wide open door

Means nothing if it cannot be closed.

Those who create real havens are not free.

Hold fast, maintain, are rooted, dig deep wells;

Whatever human love my be,

There is no freedom without sheltering walls.

And when we imagine wings that come and go

What we see is a house, and a wide-open window.

Robin Becker: Sadness in Spring

Today I thought about how everyone I know

is sad, how amazing that the forests and deserts

and plains can hold us as we get up and walk

from one season to the next.

In spring all sadness is wet and branching, sucking at shoes,

and the anniversaries of deaths

are like tiny tombstones on the trails.

Summer is still so far away, not like our dead who stand

in the woods all night, a few feet from the house.

Marge Piercy: Spring

Spring will come with mud,
and I will slog in boots
to dig and plant my food.
This restlessness will hum

in my blood like a hive
preparing to swarm, and issue
on the still air of summer
buzzing and victorious

to change my life.