Saturday, June 27, 2009

Like Poetry at Dawn ...

Like poetry at dawn,
spring tip-toed in the back gate
this morning, all dewy fresh and sparkly,
and inch by inch the day turned golden.
In the garden a woodpecker
chiseled a tree, the poplars whispered
to the cottonwoods, the newly fertile earth
blushed under the sun's lusty gaze
and the lilacs reveled in an orgy of purple.

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