Memories On the Branch
Green fingers spring into the morning light
jade unjaded by the winter's hold on colors born
crocus and daffodil knuckle the soil despite
the white which still coats parts of the sleeping lawn.
Weeks will pass, hues will glow, pink, purple and gold
as summer births from lilac blue to geranium red.
Seeds will grow to lettuce heads and strawberries cajoled
in the heat of summertime hearts will rise to wed.
All is in abundance now fruit ripe on the heavy vine,
the farmer's harrow's out, he cuts and bales the rye.
The orchard branches glow with Ida Reds divine.
The barns silo's full now, all that's left is fall goodbyes.
Indoor we go to winter warm and rest to read and write
and make our nests, a shelter from the snowy storms.
The cat's come in, cow's in the barn, cuddle in the firelight
until the springtime comes again and once again transforms.
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