Deciduous Doxology

I watched The Poconos wake up this morning.
Out the door at five-thirty,
and across the Gap by six,
I was there when they started their day.

Magnolia Buds

Hang on, Magnolia buds, My dears! Hang on, Magnolia buds! Bear with this ill-timed Arctic air Withstand this undue frost. Nor let us come April into And fail to find thee there. March 28, 2022

In His Time

Every year I marvel more and more at how long it takes for the Aster and the Goldenrod to bloom. Think back to when you saw your first blossom of Spring. Maybe it was a Crocus against your house, or perhaps you spied Snowdrops in Central Park. But now, in the damp of an autumn

Cacophony

It must have been

an evening in early August

when ‘cacophony’ was coined.

What other moment

could have minted

such an awesome articulation:

the world’s most perfect word?

Chicory

Ode to the summer roadside’s unassuming garland

Fireflies in May

I was raking in the backyard last night at twilight, and the corner of my eye caught what I took to be a firefly…

Meadowbreeze Lane

A swarm of swallows trims the grass One dive bomb at a time, And the bumblebee checks all the flowers To find a pair that rhyme. Every wingéd beast and insect Gaily, madly, gads about, But the red-winged blackbird bobs along Like his shrew has turned him out. May 1, 2020

The Liming of the Fields

The lime on the field is a promise fulfilled. It says, “I will restore what I have taken,” And, “I will replenish that which I have used.” The stockpiled minerals are reminders— Reminders of entropy, erosion, and diminishing returns— Reminders of the Fall. The farmer’s lime is an acquiescence, An acknowledgment that time is precious,