You slip into the crook of my arm as I recline on the sofa, your diapered bottom cradled like a football. I can feel your body beneath my hand rise and fall with your breathing. You – most likely – can hear my heartbeat as your head rests peacefully on my chest. I could, I think, sit like this forever.
Budding hearts of spring.
All is new; life pulses through
Veins and vines and views.
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They are blooming now, the cherry blossoms. I see them on FaceBook and Istagram. I know they are across the river in city parks, and up the road six or seven miles in the neighborhood where I used to live.
But here in COVID times, I do not find myself across the river or up the road much. Not to worry, though. In my own back yard, however briefly they can withstand the March rains and wind, my flowering quince regale me with their fleeting blossoms.
Don’t blink! They fade fast.
yesterday’s blossoms become
today’s confetti
gurgling downspout
serenades my sleepless night
I long for crickets
First fire, then calm hues.
Look to the sunrise this day.
Hope dawns for us all.
The idea of the new landscape undertaking was to plant only native species and ultimately do away with all conventional lawn surrounding my house. I began with my side yard, covering the grass and weeds with cardboard and spreading layers of wood chips over that. The scrawny “twigs” of bare root shrub and tree plantings I obtained from the soil and water conservation district barely looked alive. By the time I finished prepping and planting, my side yard resembled a miniature clear cut logging site. Not auspicious.
As the year progressed, some plants grew and blossomed, some appeared to die down and later surprised me with renewed growth, and some just flat out died. A work in progress, for sure, but it’s always fascinating to step around the corner of my house and see how my project is unfolding.
Can nature restore what my predecessors spent centuries grooming to our vain human whims? And will my tenth of an acre make a difference in the grand scheme of wildlife preservation? I don’t know, but… it’s a beginning.
bare root crab apple first autumn foliage drops mere inches to ground
autumn dusk falls fast
last the viewer now the viewed
time to draw the shades
smoke-laced crisp fall fog
like aftertastes of apple
when the half-worm shows
The poetry challenge today on the dVerse site is to write a “found” poem using the words on book spines.
Bjorn asks us to:
Go through your collection on books, and note the titles.
Sort them so the titles form a poem.
Take a photo of the books.
Write down the poem.
And so, my found poem — a haiku of sorts — with its found title:
wherever you go
roads of destiny — options —
some answered questions
dragon’s breath sunset
bare tree limbs in silhouette
ashes drift like snow
NaPoWriMo Day Four. Prompt: “write a poem based on an image from a dream.”
longer days still dark
I shiver with the tulips
winter’s chill in spring
What Rhymes with Stanza? 