…In spring, from turgid earth
that has been frozen so long
it does not even know itself
and has become hard-hearted
to shivering beasts like us,
the first small crocuses lip their way
in centimeters of palest purple …
–excerpt from “From Mud” in Hanging Like Hope on the Equinox by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective, Chicago 2013). First published in Iodine.