Just before the New Year,
in the dim clutter of my cellar,
I discovered a potted amaryllis bulb
that I had put in storage a year ago
when it failed to send up the shoots
and stems and glorious blossoms
that had brightened our Christmas
in the bulbs first year in our home.
We had considered tossing
it out with the kitchen trash,
but we decided, Who knows?
And now, behold,
a translucent tongue,
moist and tender,
a pale and perfect parabola
an inch-and-a-half in height,
has asked for another glimpse
of daylight, and of course my
wife and I have gladly granted
that request and brought the plant
and pot up out of the cellar dark.
The tongue has made
no new promises and I
have made no new threats.
Some would say it would be a sin
if we didnt offer love and patience
to Make an Amaryllis Great Again.