Dear Friends,

As I write this, snow is being predicted for Sunday, the Vernal Equinox or first day of Spring. Hmm….. here's something that might cheer you up --

I found this delightful page on The Old Farmer's Almanac site – a page of bird songs!!
(I think I'm partial to American Robin and The Northern Cardinal – but honestly, well, they're all wonderful. Listen and smile  - or laugh out loud.)

One of the two days of the year when nighttime and daytime are of equal length, the Spring equinox is a pivot; a chance to reflect on where we've been and what's to come.  The earth thaws, the life cycle starts anew.  The energy of great potential is all around us.

So while we wait out the fickle weather, let us seek out balance -

The Spring Equinox - March 20, 2016



It is the cruelest spectacle,
they put on such clouds
of white that allow you to believe
in some endless generosity;
you remember how you looked this time last year

and the pear oaks allow you to believe for just a moment
that we are all made from heaven,
forget we come from dirt,                                                                                                   

forget we will be razed.

The pear oaks mock you; they have no problems
with renewal and decay.
See how they bend and laugh;
you will never be as lovely or as perfectly

Now you may say it's simple vanity or the confidence
natural to those born beautiful,
but as their white buds morph to deepest green,
as they stand in cliquish groups, thick as thieves, flourishing aggressively,
you understand
they guard a secret they will never share with you.
It is you who is green
with envy.
You put away your black winter coat.
The next day brought an April snow;
sprout yellow buds shrouded, lace white flowers frost-laden,
perfume gone,
gaily colored holiday eggs buried, dormant below.

Now the trees' sensual dress is traded
for this more formal, minimalist aesthetic;

how modern they look in classic black and white,
how elegant in their business attire,
these ruthless executives comfortable with sudden death.
Upset is their natural order.


The sap-green leaves are splendid and extravagantly large
in resurrection; like Doubting Thomas you did not believe
April light could render this.

The late day sun kisses them all
and in light of their big reveal, that miraculous performance, you yearn
to kiss back; you forgive the selfishness of the trees.
You will forgive them again, tonight
beneath a perfect moon

and endless times after that.

Finishing Line Press, 2015