root & leaf

these leaves had roots once.
this sheaf was a forest
(or a tree)
and birds nested
in its branches,
squirrels cannoned
from limb to limb
with death-defying grace.

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i suppose you have trees

the evening sun set the oak leaves glowing
like bronze against the still-blue sky,
and i wished i could show you
how beautiful it was, could explain
why i wished i could show you.

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network

the young grass stands slight
and fragile against the cold.

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wind

all day long
the wind has been
scouring the trees;
now the lawn is thick
with bronzed leaves of oak,
tender yellow of maple,
wild red and orange
and byzantium of gum.

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milkweed

while the roses were drinking
i set the milkweed seeds
sailing on the wind,
watched as the air currents
caught their silken parachutes
and bore them aloft
and out of sight

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spirea

at the little grey house on the corner
the spirea has begun to bloom,
delicate white blossoms creeping mistily down its long, slender branches.

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april showers

after weeks of dry weather —
or merely a tease of moisture in the form of fog
or snow or sleet or drizzle —
the spring skies have finally broken open

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