this spring, a bloom unparalled,
the Yoshino, the crabapples, the almonds
the Fujis—finally—fielding a few blooms
the Knockouts way early our neighbor said
that grapevine of yours, dead to the world last summer
back and with a first cluster forming
tonight I sat in one of our old garden chairs
the scrap wood from the vegetable beds I built for you
burning into the late evening
a lone heron gliding in for the nightly roost
my eyes on the fire
glances too at the moon and Venus
settled in until at last I put the final embers to bed
Lyman
2023
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