DPF / Cullen

For our January fog (which I love) whose job it is to keep the green at bay while inadvertently encouraging it, from The Oxford Book of American Poetry, edited by David Lehman.

from To John Keats, Poet at Spring Time / by Countee Cullen (1903-1946)

Somehow I feel your sensitive will
Is pulsing up some tremulous
Sap road of a maple tree, whose leaves
Grow music as they grow

DPF / Levine

More flowers. This one’s in American Poets, The Journal of the Academy of American Poets, Spring-Summer 2014. And, it’s from his book, The Mercy. More here:

from Northern Motive / by Philip Levine b. 1928

little, delicate white jump-ups that open for
only a few hours, live their lives, turn to dust
before the day ends