when the lilacs bloom . filling the air with fragrance . the snow shovel’s done
the river flows free . influenced by the constraints . built to contain it
a drop of water . passes, never to return . to the same river
the surface tension . between the wind and water . produces diamonds
a field of purple . reveals individual . flowers when up close
the sun could foretell . what its sunrise will look like . we’d still be surprised
the wind can blow through . the spaces where the snow clings . and prevents passage
the mid-night thunder . becomes just a memory . as night becomes day
the stream changes course . out of necessity, and . continues to flow
every tree branch . has on it the potential . for another branch
uptown jack 