Saturday, March 29, 2014
The South wind blows open the folds of my dress,
My feet leave wet tracks in the earth of my garden,
The willows along the canal sing
with new leaves turned upon the wind.
I walk along the tow-path
Gazing at the level water.
Should I see a ribbed edge
Running upon its clearness,
I should know that this was caused
By the prow of the boat
In which you are returning.
-- Amy Lowell
(The poem is taken from the new book, Modernist Women Poets: An Anthology, edited by Robert Haas and Paul Ebenkamp, from Counterpoint. The photograph of cherry blossom is by Elizabeth Whitehead.)