Fractions of Flowers, Inches of Air
Spring is like a perhaps hand…
--e.e. cummings
cummings said it better
than I ever could, so I don’t even know
why I’m trying.
All I know is
the willow on the corner
has sparked into green mist
that clings like liquid
to its uplifted limbs;
when I walk I kick up
the bright scent of hyacinths
that dances inches from the earth.;
and the forsythia has wrought
irrepressible beauty
in the junkyards and parking lots.
Everything gets a chance in April.
Seeds, young love,
and color, which is also called hope.
4.8.09
c.l.
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