Late February, Bryant Park

The Zamboni is on the ice

And I think of how much like my writing

Is that glass surface

Through a milky cloud obfuscating

A depth of urgent meaning

In unripe spring

And I want the laughing children

To come out quickly

And skate once more before the thaw


By Jason Anderson



Iris stalks

Photo: author



this strong young spring first all my senses fires

then presents its finest stalk, barely enfolded –

I’ve never seen

something so

aching to be kissed


fatal flower


©2013 Jason Anderson