I Had Hoped for a Tender Season by Robin St. James

a lingering Spring

that would settle,

hushed and gentle,

into Fall.

I grew weary of waiting

in the bony lap of winter

longed for the life that emerges,

burgeons and converges

after a bitter cold.

I needed honeysuckle and May apple

to clear my heart of January-

instead I have thorn and thistle,

sun-blanched bramble and bristle,

limbs that bears no fruit.

Fevered breezes bring little ease

and highway mirages remind me

of a barren garden, an empty chair

dust devils in the air,

I long for the numbness of cold.

~ Robin St. James

As a life-long learner, Robin St James has taken nearly every literature and history course available, but has concentrated on American Literature and African American Studies. St James has had work published in The Blue Island Review, KU’s Kiosk and Comma Splice, and other literary publications. 

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