chirps, moans, whistles
I open my mouth and a sound comes out
Sunday, March 9, 2008
ailanthus altissima
earliest spring, young tree of heaven
juvenile, gawky
flimsy
harvest of breakage
drooping, dripping cream confection
in a swarm of bees
if not for its easy-going ways
some towns would have no trees at all
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment