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Saturday, May 12, 2007




Kids shout, rooster crows;
New white flowers on the tree;
Plane buzzes up high.

Flurry of color;
Endless jungle of yellow--
Forsythia is.

Bending in the wind
Small white flowers on tall stems;
Who says they are weeds?

White lilacs are first
With billowing bloom and smell;
Purple cousins wait.

Huddled together
Little blue flowers blossom
In the shady woods.


















Small green umbrellas:
Maple leaves point to the ground
Waiting for water.










White in the wildness
Tree bursts forth in the brambles
Heedless of fences.













Lush cliff in the woods
Guided softly by the trees;
Nice to take a leap.

Squished in the road--
One frog that did not make it;
Now a Rorschach test.







Lying by the road
Two empty cigarette packs:
Chain litterer.

Tip of the bare branch
Green bud begins to unfold--
Languid blossoming.

Freaked caterpillar
Frantically crosses the road;
How will he make it?

Tiny white beacons
Illuminate the forest;
They will fly away.

1 comment:

Emily said...

HI GEMPA!
Those pictures are beautiful. Did you take them?
The frog one was gross, though.
But I loved the poem! It made me want to walk where you were walking. But, at the caterpillar part, I wanted to barf.
So many caterpillars.
THEY'RE TAKING OVER!