March began with some long and lovely road hauls, out to the northern midwest and back to and around the northeast. I’ve now been home for a couple of weeks, with all my concerts this last half of the month within a drive-home-at-night radius. I’ve been trying to pick up all the loose ends from the weeks of touring, nowhere near accomplished yet, but making some headway. The woods keep enticing me to leave behind my work load and go walking. Mid-March, the weather grew warm so quickly that the creek out back, with the sudden melt, flooded the footbridge. The temperature dropped dramatically that night, and when the creek level dropped the next day, it left behind a high thin layer of ice as evidence of the water’s depth at the time of the freeze. Now the shady parts of the woods harbor only a remnant of snow, and the weather’s warming up again, more slowly this time, more reliably, as we move into real spring weather.
Often I emerge from the woods with the gift of a new piece of poetry, and I’ve been enjoying sharing some of these writings in my concerts. Here’s my latest.
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Equinox
Sun dazzled saplings
hang
in tenuous balance
between seasons
their branches drooping
under the weight
of wet March snows
Snows that cling to the bark
as if to preserve a last thread of a hold
on a wintry status quo
Snows unaware of their impending doom
under the ever-strengthening rays
of a sun daily higher in the sky
Snows that in a moment
or an hour
or a day
will succumb
to the leaning
of the earth on its axis
as it follows an orbit
sublime
and preordained
Snows that soon will take their place
in the spring melt
that already floods
the roots
of these same saplings
they cling to
in this brief moment.
Were I such a sapling
I’d be asking impatiently:
How soon
will the snows melt?
And how long
must I stand in this water?
But the saplings,
unbewildered by
contradictory evidence
and feeling no urge
to predict
or analyze
the change in the season,
stand
in calm acceptance
of the mystery
of time’s passage.
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Enjoy the spring! Hope to see you out there somewhere.
Warmly, Lui
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Lui Collins
137 Main Street Apt C
Shelburne Falls, MA 01370