sweetness, humility, healing, spring, a return to happiness
I sleep late. The lawnmowers
do not wake me, nor the landlord's
angry wife. The light
finds my eyes gently,
as the rain begins. The house
is empty. The bright street,
deserted. The comforter
has been rejected, a cool white dog
at the foot of the bed.
All the clocks are wrong or gone,
I guess he took his with him. I force open
a window. It is time to start the day.
painting by Cassandra Barney
another season of floriography begins.
