Modest Goddess

Some poems

The day my son first
Noticed the crocuses poking up
Yellow and purple
Out of their bed of mulch
He stopped and squatted
Pointed his chubby hand at them
"Fowers," he said, delighted

I was marching to the car
The to-do list in hand
I stopped next to him
Dug my fingers in the earth
And crumbled lumps of soil

Let more flowers come up.
Let them break through
Burst through the darkness
And emerge like a child’s realization
That it’s finally Spring.


To a small boy, the bugs are our friends.
We have nothing to fear from them.
Stinger, sucker, the beat of wings
No insect’s bite has yet invaded
His soft trust.

The buzz of a heavily laden body
From across the yard
Resting on the zinnias
Is just an invitation

To get up closer, to take a look
To wander through the world
Fearless and knowing
Whatever you peer at
Will be happy to let you see.