but today feels old, like the hibiscus
not blooming on the windowsill – it’s sunny
but it’s cold today outside and inside.
All our leaves are wanting and we
can’t even imagine we’ll ever be blooming.
The new green is amused by raindrops.
How they plop, roll, sit and soak.
One droplet magnifies the leaf veins center.
A star, a circle, coming together and
radiating out with the Sun’s bright energy.
At the garden edges, the volunteer seedlings
grow on their own despite my human
weeding deliberations at order, symmetry and control.
Thankfully not reliably identical to their parents.
Volunteers try modestly to change the world.
Lychnis coronaria Rose Campion
Even the new plants in the garden
have had enough of the spring rain.
Winter lingered. True spring passed us by.
Warm, moist, green jumped to May summer.
Brushing rosemary and sage scents the air.
Robins brush their wings against window screens
attacking reflections of their own nesting instincts.
They started nesting in the pine tree
outside the bedroom window under our gaze.
Today, three blue eggs match the sky.
In a cold spring, just one day.
Hot blue sky sun has me thinking
summer with the leaves, bees and ants.
But I need to bring plants inside
tonight and turn on wintertime heat again.
Air scented thickly from many spring flowers.
Heat inversion and fog and warming skin.
A morning so heavy that the peonies
can’t lift themselves to greet the sun.
I sit shaded, writing it all down.