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by SuzAnne C. Cole






Spring Rains Were Late That Year



Brassy sun wilts tender wheat yellow

shrivels corn into hollow husks as pigs

pant in dry wallow below the rattling windmill.

Worn out with waiting for the grace of rain

my German grandfather curses the blank sky.



a line, (a short blue one)



Spring March


Spring trumpets its arrival with a band -

clashing colors, gaudy parrot tulips,

raucous birds strutting their territories,

squirrels dashing in delirious frenzy.

Spring is gawky colts and lavish excess.  


Spring races green and juicy and foolish

through our veins as we walk barefoot in mud

until our toes cramp, garden far too long

on the first mild day, twirl in children’s play. 


Spring shouts, Winter is over, hurray, hurray,

Come out and celebrate this day.



a line, (a short blue one)



Spring Sunday


I walked my meditation this morning,

cleansed and shriven by fresh wind,

a doe with tender twins calmly approving. 



Clouds disintegrated as I passed into my home

sudden sun spotlighting a vase of lazy yellow

tulips, a dish of dimpled strawberries.



Sunshine, flowers, fruit, and fawns -

more than enough.   



a line, (a short blue one)



On My Birthday


Some of my friends fear birthdays,

never tell their age or weight,

veto celebrations and frosted cakes.

Not me. Despite pounds and wrinkles,

I’m grateful to have been granted

another year.  Just an ordinary year—

work, leisure, friends and family,

affections deepening with time. 

I learned some things and forgot others.

I had my share of  sorrow - and

maybe more than my share of  joy.

Just an ordinary year,

an extraordinary gift.




a line, (a short blue one)




Our Jubilee Year

for my husband



My love, as we prepare to celebrate

our semicentennial anniversary,

I’m reminded that we are also in

our fiftieth year together in marriage.

The Old Testament speaks of such

fiftieth years as years of Jubilee,

years in which debts and sins

are forgiven, slaves set free,

and everyone returns home. Lucky

us to be planning just that.



Three sons, three daughters-in-law,

five grandchildren—all gathered

together with us in Jackson Hole,

alongside Grand Tetons National Park.

A week of presence, the best gift of all—

hiking, bird-banding, parade and rodeo,

fireworks, exploring, maybe horseback

riding and float trips, communal feasts,

cousins renewing their friendship,

brothers, sisters-in-laws and grandparents

sharing laughter, love, and memories.



Lucky to be debt-free (or almost),

slave-free and, if in sin, mostly minor ones.

Celebrating longevity but much more—

celebrating growth even when sometimes

we seemed to be standing still,

Celebrating strength even when weak,

Celebrating unity even when separate.

Celebrating forgiveness and love. . .

and family.



Yours forever,


Your loving wife




a line, (a blue one)


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