Though the Fig Tree Should Not Blossom

Spring in 2021 and 2022 brought hard and brutal frosts in late March. Overnight temperatures dropped near single digits and the mercury didn’t rise above freezing for consecutive days. These arctic blasts were unusually late, and all the magnolia trees had already gone to bud when they hit. The tender petals of their satin blossoms

The Dogwood Never Fails

An Ode to the Dogwood

Tulip People

An Ode to the Tulip

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

April 9

There are three things which I do not believe— four that I will never understand: The ninny who announces that she doesn’t like bacon, the philistine who posits improvements of baseball, the charlatan who espouses a god in his own image, and the ogre who identifies his favorite season without stating first and foremost, unequivocally,

The First Sunday Evening in June

The first Sunday evening in June

is like that famous score by John Cage

titled 4’33”…

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 Greens of May

It’s the morning after the gala, and even the Cherry admits she overdid it this year. The Lilac’s purple litter has fallen and faded, and the King’s crown lies in state. The canopy’s canvas is bourgeoning with green— emerald and olive and chartreuse and shamrock– sixteen different shades of verdancy gleam in fourteen facets of

I Have An Antique Rose

I have an antique rose; She waits patiently for me. When I draw nigh with pruning shears, She utters not a plea. Her thorny branches twine in knots, They tangle by degrees. Yet when I start to thin them out, She neither fights nor flees. She stands in proud defiance, An indomitable foe; It’s ne’er