Today, when you can see the 'dark lady of the sonnets'
On any subway train
(Commonplace beauty, which long ago was rare);
Will Persephone too
From dark and cold below,
And tread the high stone stair to spring?
Spring Beauties and Violet,
Withered by Winter's long embrace
Lie dormant in her hair;
She enters, Our Lady of the Spring,
Trailing the ghosts of crocus past,
Last spring's remembered rain.
Through the rolling roar of trains
Into the light.