This garden
where tulips
swayed in the wind
Those lips
with no rain
lasted, and now
new buds, perhaps a daisy
lilacs in bloom
and the corner bush
in a white cloak
like a bride–he’d say that
each spring
about another garden
The climbers starting to climb
and the ground vines
choking the ground,
columbine’s saffron
looking down.

May 31, 2014 it was a Saturday