RSS Feed

Redbud, Again

Every year there’s a poem
(a love poem) for
the redbud tree in our front yard

When you blossom, bees converge
humming through the air
Is that the poem?

Or is it distraction, how I missed the day
you opened into bright pure pink?

Or how I noticed (finally)
you at the door, framed above
whoever knocked, you as a
huge improbable hat?

Or is it how strangers gasp
during your bright brief reign
as queen of all trees?

Or is it that you do this every spring
whether I write you a poem or not?

One response »

  1. I love your love poem.
    And now I’m brave enough to admit- I have an affair with my crabapple every May.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A Hundred Falling Veils

there's a poem in every day

The Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

Red Wolf Prompts

I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice

Writing the Day

A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

%d bloggers like this: