Late December, given weather hard or clement
The snowdrops would begin to send
Their first small stars of uninspiring leaves
Hardly strong enough to survive;
They were anonymous and quiet:
During new year revels, kept out of sight,
Waiting. Then buds appeared like magic doves
From a green magician’s cloak. Our love
For these so fragile signs of spring
Sent us out with nail scissors and tea-cups
To harvest just enough to fill
The tiniest of vases. Some buds closed up
Like miniature long-life bulbs. Others show
Their faint green watermark inside cupped
Petals. We know they will be fleeting cropped
Like this - but how much more appreciated.
Some punctuation to be looked at (replace stop after bulbs with comma?) But the basic form is there now, for tinkering later. Heaney's negative reflection is opposed by this, more positive one. One shouldn't be slavish!
