after May Swenson
Seven days
since the first green nipple appeared
from the underworld of water and root.
Seizing the stone wall,
hitch and latch, knit and purl,
green parachute leaves,
hook upon hook nailing the air,
over the canopy’s arc you climb.
White flower funnels,
amber bees roll dusted and fragrant
-wild honey, sweet syrup of labor.
This extravagance of life is a deep breath
in the cycle of brown roots, withered tendrils
and winter’s white eye.
Poetry on the run 
I love it when poems make me look up a word: Here it was “purl”. I’ve seen it before, but as usual, I don’t know what it means.
The definition that most struck me was, “the intertwisting of thread that knots a stitch usually along an edge” (Merriam-Webster, online). Interesting to me is that it’s a homonym of “pearl”, which is how I see it following the “the first green nipple appeared…”. Very visual. Do I also need to find a more obscure definition for ‘knit’ or do you intend to evoke the knitting craft, with vine like yarn, spooling out against the wall? These are the thoughts that rambled about in my brain as I was reading this.
LOVE “sweet syrup of labor”.
And the final lines:
This extravagance of life is a deep breath
in the cycle of brown roots, withered tendrils
and winter’s white eye
This stanza which follows the part about the white flowers, amber bees and wild honey–follows it as if you are ACTUALLY gasping (and simultaneously, the reader gasps or takes a deep breath) at the beauty and the fragrance here. The overwhelm of and from wild nature as it springs forth from “winter’s white eye” (a phrase I adore).
Seems May Swenson has pushed you along wonderfully. I love it when a poet reaches down or up or out to inform our own efforts.
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This poem has been in my notebook since I first read Swenson’s “A City Garden in April” 9 years ago.
She is quite an influential poet for me. I am having a blast rediscovering that fact! My next assignment is to reread Elizabeth Bishop, who was another early, significant influence.
Yes to the knitting reference, I like the thought of vine as yarn.
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Holly, I love the way you talk about poetry and when you turn your eye to my words I appreciate it all the more, thank you. ~Ron
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Wonderful. I love the ending, “winter’s white eye.”
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Thanks Bob.
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