by Bakul Banerjee
Bakul Banerjee’s poem is about a journey through greenery where ferns are a dominating presence.
Spring arrives late in Copper County.
Astonished, I take in nature as she awakens
with vengeance; seeds, fronds, and rhizomes
beneath the ground. She has no patience
for the dawdling lovers hibernating.
Much work must be done. The season of
propagation is brief in this cold country.
With my daughters, I gently tread the path
to the beach, giving them unneeded warnings
not to disturb the seedlings. Whenever it can,
the morning sunlight is burnishing silver foils
on the ferns. Vain daisies, in their white
dresses, exude confidence to compete.
In another time, on another forest floor
covered with ferns, I remember seeing
my mother walking in front of me.
We were looking for a pretty waterfall.
Multi-colored lantanas were shooting
out their first flowers. Her long hair held
in a bun at the nape of her pale neck.
Like a Greek Senator’s wife, she walked
with purpose, dressed in a white sari with
an elaborate woven border. I puzzled over
her slightly swollen belly, as she bent down
to untangle the hem caught by a fern frond.
At a distance, my father followed in silence.
Soon, the pebbled beach of Lake Superior,
strewn with old copper nuggets, appears.
The verdigris stain on those mineral ores
bears witness to my joy of motherhood.
An award winning author and poet Bakul Banerjee published her second collection of previously published poems, titled Bathymetry: Poems, in 2017. Her chapbook, titled Synchronicity: Poems, was published in 2010. For the past twenty years, her poems and stories appeared in several literary magazines and anthologies throughout U.S. and India. She has been featured at several poetry readings and presented multiple poetry workshops. She lives near Chicago. Blog site: bakulbanerjee.blogspot.com
