The End Of FebruaryThe white tulips I bought at the market are in motion.More Like This
Their progress too slow to notice
but they are stretching,
stretching their necks,
swanning toward the pane of the window.
Each one striving to outdo the other,
sun starved; a tip toeing
arabesque out of the vase.
I can hear them sighing.
Onward, and with graceful movements
green and white declare their space.
They curtsy on stage.
Linda R. O'Connell © 2014