Cumulous clouds pack the sky,
their undersides ashy damp.
Our dogwood plumps at branch ends.
Ten years ago we though it died.
Woody cream-green petals, soon.
We hacked back arbor clematis
now nothing blooms, the kiwi
feelers loom high above the house.
The optimistic window decorator
at the Men's Consignment Store
has strewn rabbit pellet-sized
easter eggs on the window sill.
Festive, I think, expecting mice.
It's spring, tra-la. Purple bells
bud along their bracts, green
as asparagus, and dandelions.
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