Valentine Violets

We thought that spring was here, but then came frost
The roses died and blackened in the hedge.
The warm wind fought the arctic front and lost.

The violets bloom bright, at sidewalk's edge,
they're undismayed by snow or bitter chill
their roots protected by a concrete ledge.

Who would have thought late-breaking frost would kill
the blooms that give their name to our fair city
and leave the humble violets blooming still?

Some call them weeds, and say that it's a pity
that they should occupy my parking strip, my lawn--
but can't they see that violets are pretty?

The hothouse valentine roses are gone,
so bring me violets, hardy and low-cost
for love that's humble, everyday and strong.