It’s been lovely and warm in Washington, D.C., this week after some wetter, drearier days. In tribute to the beauty of springtime—even in the midst of melancholy—here’s a bit of Grace Schulman’s elegiac “Celebration,” from our May 2009 issue:
Seeing, in April, hostas unfurl like arias,
and tulips, white cups inscribed with licks of flame,
gaze feverish, grown almost to my waist,
and the oak raise new leaves for benediction,
I mourn for what does not come back
Read the full poem here.