THIRTEEN
Now the maple leafs
Recovered from days of gales
Blowing red buds off
FOURTEEN
Rain in a dry spell
Remembering the low ponds
Is worth a gray day
FIFTEEN
If I had a cat
I would give him hearth and milk
And I have. I do.
SIXTEEN
Poetry can say
Without saying, or saying
Elsewise than you thought
SEVENTEEN
Deer ate red tulips.
Do they taste like strawberries?
Yellow ones remain
EIGHTEEN
Feathery greening
Slowly, across wide landscapes
Full Spring takes its time
NINETEEN
I saw you, star points
Before day’s dawn obscured you
Grounding me from space
TWENTY
Brief declarations
Can reveal something hiding
Perhaps under words
TWENTY-ONE
Olive trees, grey-green
Rich olives, black, green, spotted
–Most prized olive oil
TWENTY-TWO
Azaleas blossomed
Wildly purple, airy, light
Calling Winter old
TWENTY-THREE
In these new Spring winds
I wax poetic and melt
All over the ground
TWENTY-FOUR
Best sight this morning:
Bumblebees in flow’ring tree
As if flow’rs weren’t best
TWENTY-FIVE
Last Fall’s dry oak leaves
Suddenly sweep up in gusts
Making Spring whirlwinds
TWENTY-SIX
Flower, vine, and bush
Softly sound in rain and breeze
Green chimes of summer
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