All this green beauty has me remembering Kay Byer, NC's first female poet laureate. She and I shared a love of Garcia Lorca's poem Verde, Que Te Quiero, Verde and the Carolina mountains and their seasons. Kay is gone now, but her words are fresh as ever.
Little by little, the earth sheds
her veils. Lets her white blossoms
tremble. The river shakes out her blue
shimmy and scrubs it to smithereens
over the singing rocks, leaving her
sunny side up, such a tease
that I sway to her music
as if I were Salome's sister
and not an old woman who knows
that the inkblot of sky on this page
of my daybook will soon begin fading,
because how can anyone, even Great
Grandaddy Death stay asleep
amid so much awakening?
Kathryn Stripling Byer