Regardless of the local temperature,
no matter what the calendar declares,
I’ve learned we’re fully into Spring, for sure,
when this tree buds to leaf. Its twiggy hairs
don’t feather while each other tree prepares
to start to eat the sunshine, air, and dirt.
On College close to Alcatraz it flares,
and every year I watch its laggard spurt.


This entry was posted in Flora, Neighborhood, Poetry, Weather and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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