brownish-red and glossy,
in cool morning sun buds wait to burst,
impatient to flaunt flowering beauty.
dancing to music unheard,
in late winter’s breeze grass begins to green,
their songs portend coming spring.
light peaks through,
not in veil of shadow or chill unwelcoming dawn,
painting the white walls of my room.
not with foolhardy glee, children play at recess,
soccer moms jog,
bundled old men amble along park lanes.
Squirrels and I
having been fooled before by morning frost
reminding us of winter,
sitting under this ornamental cherry, I await its flowering beauty.