North East Passion

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 North East Passion

I drive North East
   away from the bloom-athon of azaleas
             and from cheery yellow daffodils
to meet the Spring in
a place
   of grey bare trees
   whose limbs implore the heavens;
where the iron ground is mute
as to what will be birthed.

A just judgment passed on us
             by our climate.
While the trees stripped bare of robes,
stand upright, unafraid beneath
the lowering sky–
taut between two acts.
                 Pilate’s dallied sentence.

On such a day only the faithful
leave home’s cover and
head to the maple sugar camp—
only to end up at the
base of silent weeping maples.

-Charity Johnson, 2013

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