Through my front window
the first camellia blossom
a surprise joy

There are shatterproof
ornaments now
and trees that need no water.

We can box up
our entire Christmas and store,
along with unused wrapping paper,
yellowed love letters–
in plastic containers.

Not like before, when every year a favorite glass ball
shook loose from a dried out Douglas fir,
splintered.
Holidays were more fragile,
hearts shattered.

It’s so hot
the Jehovah’s witnesses
have given up

after 30 years
our house looks like
an unweeded garden

Sunday woods
Northern Cardinal overwhelms
the tennis volleys

Saturday woods
bird travelers
from Brazil

early April
blossoms brown
green tedium

old dog sleeps
through 40 waves
of thunder

Another sour Saturday
draped
in rain

first of March cacophony
one complaining rooster
two scolding crows

— — —

a few first dogwood blooms
stake out
their blossoming turf

— — —

the saucer magnolia
like our elderly dog
has rallied

the trees are dimming
as they should in December
dogwood still gleams

– – – – –

I forgive the rains
whatever made the trees gold
has brought me some peace

tomorrow
sidewalks full of backpacks
blue paper masks

– – – – –

school starts early
geese watch
head south

– – – – –

school’s open
defrost
chicken soup