the first tulip bloomed today,
golden as butter,
and i wished i could show you
its delicately frilled petals
and we could guess together
at what color the next bud
might prove to be.
baby leaves are creeping up
the branches of the forsythia,
but no lemon splendor shone forth
to start the show; i wonder
if it still resents the trimming
i gave it (two years ago this spring).
behind, the golden rain tree
shows no signs of waking up
from winter; it is not the only
tree that’s dying.
indoors now, i sit in the stillness
of a drowsing house, waiting
in the darkness for the dawn.