Artwork: Fernand Leger, Two Women Holding Flowers, 1954

The first in a set of poems entitled Lovers’ Quarantine

In ‘Lovers’ Quarantine’ I explore different responses to quarantine. Here, the natural periodic growth of daffodils is mirrored in the ‘burrowing’ silent accumulation of romantic thought between separated lovers.

by Fred Baxter


There are daffodils

Growing from your windowsill,

Bursting through its placid soil

After months of gritty toil;

Creakily they burrow,

Stretching out behind the furrows

Of the windowpane.

And when ice froze breath mid-air to feign

Winter, I knew still they

Rummaged, for they worked their way

Soundlessly, turning over the earth

As they went. Yawning off their frosty birth

And turning to look, I saw a world

Wrapped up in silk and furled

Around my feet; yellowing

It sent stars uprooting,

A thousand blazings

In its sinewy earth’s lacing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s