For a Friend Lying in Intensive Care Waiting for Her White Blood Cells to Rejuvenate After a Bone Marrow Transplant (by Barbara Crooker) The jonquils. They come back. They split the earth with their green swords, bearing cups of light. The forsythia comes back, spraying its thin whips with blossom, one loud yellow shout. The robins. They come back. They …
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