"On Finding Trilliums "
She walks the woods along the road,
the air is cold, rain comes and goes.
There at the base of the pine, a glimpse.
The wait has been short or long, depends
on your perception of time and its demands.
That tease of white could be a scrap
of birch bark, discarded paper, a patch
of snow. Other ephemerals have come
and gone, most too quickly unless you
watch for their bloom. Maybe these two
were here yesterday, but she walked this same
path, saw no signs. Perhaps the leaves were
close on the ground, tiny buds still green.
Today they must be taller, three leaves
open, white petals curved back to drink rain.
© 2005 Kathy Paupore
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