Index by Author

The Pegasus Prize, Winter 2012
Ruth Ilg
March 20th
Thousands of swallows
flying North
are blurring the sky
at dawn

The first magnolia
blossom      a pink fist
tilts in the breeze
spilling the night’s dew

The vast grey sky
still leaking a few stars
turns crimson      as the sun
presses upward

A tight-skinned
wild tangle of Forsythia
quivers and rasps
in the shifting light

The bold March wind
rakes a purple cloud
gathering pink-lined
at the horizon

Each year
I remember you
sun-carved and healed
at Winter’s edge

©2012 Ruth Ilg