Saturday, April 18, 2015

"P" is for Perhaps . . .

Perhaps this morning I'm standing
in someone else's garden,
where later under the just flowering apple tree,
humming birds will gather, and
a stone salamander sleeps,
absent of friends.
The roses are not yet blooming,
but yellow primroses brighten the corners,
as does a line of colored tiles
gathered one by one. A serape casually draped
on a garden swing in the far corner
near pale pink rhododendrons
invites reflection.
Here and there, stone owls
and a raven stand guard
as the sky softens from gray
to pink morning, 
that moment before the world begins.
Even rain does not diminish
the light of this garden
where now the golden-crowned sparrow
forages in the grass.

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