“The time when dog-tooth violets
Hold up inverted horns of gold,–
The elvish cups that Spring upsets
With dripping feet, when April wets
The sun-and-shadow-marbled wold,–
Is come. And by each leafing way
The sorrel drops pale blots of pink;
And, like an angled star a fay
Sets on her forehead’s pallid day,
The blossoms of the trillium wink.
Within the vale, by rock and stream,–
A fragile, fairy porcelain,–
Blue as a baby’s eyes a-dream,
The bluets blow; and gleam in gleam
The sun-shot dog-woods flash with rain.
It is the time to cast off care;
To make glad intimates of these:–
The frank-faced sunbeam laughing there;
The great-heart wind, that bids us share
The optimism of the trees.”
~Madison Julius Cawein
I am so gratified to see this post. Last week, I was wandering through some woods wearing a 2 month old in a wrap on my chest, sweating my tush off, cursing the day I decided that hiking was fun. I came across a whole passel of these flowers, which I kinda sorta recognized but not really, and a word sprang from the depths of my memory – trillium. And then I promptly forgot to look it up when I got home. Thank you for validating that random bit of knowledge the floated up!