Archive 04/10/10

   

In Spring's Garden

                                                                  

In one fleet week,

Between the third and the tenth day of April —

Two Saturdays bookending spring's glorious euphoria —

 

I've seen the bold, haughty saucer and star magnolias

Effloresce, wilt, and fade.

Today, flowering crab apples and blossoming cherries —

 

Those exquisite white- and pink-petaled fruit trees —

And the newly arriving deep-rose redbuds

Have made their places, in the spectrum of nature's bravado.

 

I mark my days, here in this public botanical garden,

Recording the fluid vicissitudes of floral moods

In relation to the changes of its beautiful solitude.

 

Better than most, who visit only two or three times yearly,

Do I feel the intimacies of this sanctuary intimately,

Know its sensual simplicities, sunny silences, shaded secrets,

 

Listen to it breathing, growing, aging, decaying,

Share in its vernal ecstasies, its estival languors,

Its autumnal melancholies, its hibernal slumbers.

 

I'm a tree, a shrub, a fern, a flower,

Who, once, came to visit, for an hour, an afternoon,

And decided to stay for the rest of his forever.

 

Just now, on the grass, where I've planted myself,

A dozen elated robins rapturously celebrate mating rites.

They barely notice me.

 

 

 

 

                                               

 

04/10/10

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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