Daffodils, Too Early

On solstice, I weed the flowerbeds
and see the daffodils are up.

Deep in December and fifty-eight degrees:
we’ve had no winter, barely even fall.

If there’s a hard freeze, in January, say,
it might kill the shoots, abort

the unformed flowers, cripple new growth.
Even so, the bulbs will survive.

After the shootings, the fires, and the floods last year
young men and women criss-crossed the nation

in buses, signing up voters. They swore
to vote out those who would not protect them.

They’ll save themselves. They’ll be
the grownups we failed to be.

Daffodils forced into early maturity
into a blighted spring—

but grown from strong roots.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside