Magdalene Crocus

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Burst of sun-soaked brightness,

brave against the winter’s brittle shards of

last year’s grass; like Magdalene,

I want to clasp and hold these beauties close;

force them to linger, gentle paint, refresh

the withered fringes of my fingers, eyes, and soul;

but holding on would only mar the fleeting

beauty of their fragile strength; like them, I too

am but a passing guest in this grand wonder

of a world; so let it be its yellow, purple,

crimson, heart-breaking, beautiful self;

enjoy! enjoy! these little flowers say,

savor every color, every promise sprouting

from winter’s gray, forbidding cold; but

fingers always open; springtime hearts as well.

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