Depression before Spring
The cock crows But no queen rises.
The hair of my blonde Is dazzling, As the spittle of cows Threading the wind.
Ho! Ho!
But ki-ki-ri-ki Brings no rou-cou, No rou-cou-cou.
But no queen comes In slipper green.
Wallace Stevens
The cock crows But no queen rises.
The hair of my blonde Is dazzling, As the spittle of cows Threading the wind.
Ho! Ho!
But ki-ki-ri-ki Brings no rou-cou, No rou-cou-cou.
But no queen comes In slipper green.
Written almost like a broken song, “Depression before Spring” turns the usual promise of spring into an absence. The rooster crows, but nothing—no queen, no resurrection of the season—answers. What should feel like awakening stays muted.
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