No Reason: A Poem by Nora Hutton Shepard

 

No Reason

The daphne’s dead by the driveway.

For years its January scent filled

my front doorway, my hall. They just

let go, I’ve always heard—for no reason

anyone can name. Perhaps voles

chewed the roots: it’s happened before,

or perhaps the one night of shafting ice,

of deepest cold laid it down,

one stunning star-filled hour before dawn.