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This poem is taken from PN Review 123, Volume 25 Number 1, September - October 1998.

Spring Poem Anne Stevenson

Language raked tribute from her screen all winter,
but now comes a day in spring when restless Eve
runs out of words to commit to her lord computer,
and, in neglect of her career, plays diligently,
and with delight, on the vacuum cleaner:

'Let Cambria vouchsafe to her hard unloving hills
a sharp green glance of enchantment.
Let daffodils be scrubbed until they shine.
...


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