Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Vernal Solo

by Sarah Bailey

The trees,
like dancing eyed girls,
have dressed themselves
in white and pink.

In the lawn
a seedling forest grows --
maple samara spun and sprouted.
A runner of green expectation 
blankets the sidewalk.

Once again, I
wield a broom
sweeping seeds from the
barren cement.

some will stick to my shoe.

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