Heritage as Hope I saw the cricket scene in evening light, In Windsor light with calm men moving through The evening air and dressed in cricket white. Long centuries are contained beneath the blue Of evening sky which folds the chestnut blooms In its embrace as two teams play by rules No sky could ever dream. These men are grooms Of royalty we call tradition. Pools Of beauty are these matches set in green And white and blue. They tilt—the future, too Should England last as long as glories seen Should linger, glories that are rigid, true. __When we who live have gone to other bounds, ____Let there be chestnuts still—and cricket grounds. Benison The first of our own daffodils spread out Today and maybe that bright yellow will Reach wider since the sun is now about And shining on the brilliance. It will fill The air around it with its trumpet hope, Perhaps, that is if only sunlight shines On long enough, asking it to elope With him to happiness. The flower aligns Itself with springtime passions, cooler though They are than most. They rise up saffron strong In color and in promise. Petals glow In optimism. They know how to long. __A winter, like disease, is passing now. ____The brass bell and the petals rise—and bow. Phillip Whidden is a poet published in America, England, Scotland (and elsewhere) in book form, online, and in journals. He has also had an article on Wilfred Owen’s “Dulce et Decorum est” published in The New Edinburgh Review.