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MCC Daily Tribune Archive

President's Wednesday Message


One of my resolutions this year was to read at least 100 “new to me” poems. So, every few days, I go in search of a new poem—and frequently a new poet—to add to my list. Last week, I came across this work by Lizette Woodworth Reese, a poet of the late 19th and early 20th centuries whose writing is largely (and unjustly) forgotten today. After an endless winter, this harsh yet lovely poem, gave me hope that the beginnings of spring might be just a couple weeks away, hidden beneath the snow.

Mid-March

by Lizette Woodworth Reese

It is too early for white boughs, too late
For snows. From out the hedge the wind lets fall
A few last flakes, ragged and delicate.
Down the stripped roads the maples start their small,
Soft, ’wildering fires. Stained are the meadow stalks
A rich and deepening red. The willow tree
Is woolly. In deserted garden-walks
The lean bush crouching hints old royalty,
Feels some June stir in the sharp air and knows
Soon ’twill leap up and show the world a rose.

The days go out with shouting; nights are loud;
Wild, warring shapes the wood lifts in the cold;
The moon’s a sword of keen, barbaric gold,
Plunged to the hilt into a pitch black cloud.


Are you feeling any “June stir in the sharp air,” seeing any hints of spring? Share your spring thoughts—or spring poems--on the blog.

Anne M. Kress
President's Office
03/05/2014