As tomorrow is the first day of Spring, (March 19, 2024,) it is a good time to relish some of the flowering joys of this season.
There once was a hamlet, a small California Gold Country town in the Sierra Nevada foothills, called Volcano, where a beautiful flower show sprang every spring in a place called Daffodil Hill. The hillsides were covered in the glorious colors of the Narcissus bulb. Hundreds of thousands of these miraculous little bulbs waited patiently until the longer, warmer days of spring to send up elongating stems to reach the light, unfold in trumpet-shaped flutes, and capture enough solar power to feed themselves through the rest of the year’s seasons.
Unfortunately, Daffodil Hill is indefinitely closed, trampled under feet of too many visitors and not enough parking. Alas, we still have these photos and videos to celebrate the legend of Daffodil Hill. Enjoy!
NOTES ON THE SONG “SCENE AT THE FRONT DOOR“:
I wrote this song in the format Tricube, an American poetic form created by Phillip Larrea and published in 2022. Tricube poems are based on the mathematical principle of cubing (three times three times three, or three to the power of three.) Standards are: (1) Lines are three syllables; (2) Stanzas are three Lines; and, (3) Poems are three Stanzas, for a total of 27 syllables per poem. Except for these requirements, no other meter or rhyming rules apply. “Scene At the Front Door” are lyrics made from five tricube poems back to back.
LYRICS
Mercy flew
From her chair
To the door.
Typical
Of the way
She was born.
When in flight,
Caution gone,
Hits the floor.
————————————————–
Light of day,
Dark unknown,
Heard the fall.
Neither spoke
For a time —
Not her call.
Instinct wakes.
Trips on rug —
Graceless fall.
————————————————
Ruffled clothes,
Startled blush,
Her heart sinks.
Unflinching,
He stands there,
Cannot think.
His silence —
Bruise shadow,
Black, blue, pink.
————————————————-
Others rush
To her aid —
Commotion!
“Stop that man!”
Someone shouts —
Devotion?
A voice heard,
Shy, broken,
“Food Quotient.”
————————————————
Merc rises fast;
Bids welcome
“Catering.”
The boy climbs
Up the stairs,
Tray shaking.
Awkwardness
Innocence
Long lost things