Tagged: maple

under all this

under all this
heaviness, who’s to
say that when we
emerge from the
snow, we might be
an oak leaf or
a bamboo, a maple
or a poplar, green,
gold, red, or dead
.
20210105:1954
y

at the maple-tapping

at the maple-tapping
hour
, when the whirligig
seedlings make their
late Spring descent,
between waking and
sleeping,
the aroma of
timelessness twirls
on fibrous wings
.
20110806:1151
y