The First Flower--By Jan Oskar Hansen--Portugal

The First Flower

The first winter after a long war was cold

but today the snow was slushy the beginning of spring

It was a poor street house had not been

painted for years, not much food and the ice was

reluctant to let go of its pale grip.

It was then I saw it along a wall of flaking cement

a small solitary, yellow flower the colour so bright

it blinded me it was like I had a moment of clarity

I understood and saw it all.

In the windows of old houses curtains and on sills

flowers in pots and empty tins humanities need for beauty.

I must not forget hasted home find a piece of paper

and wrote it down.

So long ago now, it was 1946 and people were friendly

we had suffered together and survived.

Jan Oskar Hansen is a published poet from Portugal.