years ago, now 25 of them,
and for so many of those
I thought what a shame it was
that, as early flowers were raising
their heads and tiny flies and ants
were beginning their work,
when you could see the buds on
winter-bare branches,
you were missing the best part.

But now I think you had it right:
To lift off into mystery when the Earth
you knew was brightening
makes perfect sense,
when surely, you, too,
were heading into light.

As if we have a choice,
which perhaps we do,
though we may not be aware of it,
like the purple-throated lilies
popping up in our backyard,
opening into spring,
their timing always perfect.

•••

In memory of my husband, Clifford Ernest Polland,
who died March 18, 2001, at age 48.