that late August afternoon
after sweating unwieldy boxes
up the three flights alone
I paused for a moment’s rest
and touched the ache of this space
not yet made my own
but thought at least how lucky,
to have the hopeful green
of a locust tree to nod in at me
not an hour later three men came
with their coveralls and chainsaws
to cut back the branches –
the cruelty of regulatory topping –
I tried not to take this
as irony or prophecy
and in spite of our crude pruning,
June arrived awash in petals,
white and brisk with bees
and the inquisitiveness
of hummingbird pairs
and October blew skiffs of yellow
adrift on winds that waved
as they passed the windows
and now this second April
as window neighbors
(we still politely nod)
not a sign of swelling twig,
nor brightness of bud,
but the brown bones
of last year’s unfallen leaves
still cling reluctant
while I watch and wait
for Spring to remind and wake
that inner ache which tells us both
it’s time once more to bloom
© Sarah Whiteley
You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit on the quiet side in the coming weeks. For those of you who don’t know, I work in the accounting field and now is a very busy time for me at work. Which means, unfortunately, that I am often too distracted to keep up with writing and reading. So this may be the last post until I’m on the other side of this deadline. But I’ll be back in a couple weeks to catch up on all the new posts I may have missed.
good thing we have spring to remind us.
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Wishing your neighbouring Tree, will bud soon, and do take care of yourself
All The Best, Sarah 😉
Peace, x
Laz
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I’ll look forward to your returning bloom!! Lovely poem….
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i love when the bloom scatters on the ground or plummets through a gap in the open window gently. and really, there’s nothing better! xx
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I know some pruning is necessary…but it does seem a bit cruel when you’ve had you heart set on a particular view….enjoyed your poem.
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dear sarah,
in pruning there shall be an expectant blooming… it’s like diamond in the rough…immensely beautiful poem, all the best to you 🙂
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Hi Sarah, I love the change of seasons and the last four lines are a moving poem all to themselves. Thanks for dropping by my blog today – hope you are well and maybe not so busy now. Looking forward to more poems and updates on Sorrow and Mirth! Kathleen
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Always, always love your imagery. And I never come here as much as I should. I really should work on that.
Great write.
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