The Seasons: A Quadriptych

Autumn

Peaches, persimmons, pomegranates

Picked from old faithful backyard trees

Except for the apple tree that collapsed, exhausted from drought.

A butterfly's lingering kiss

for a sweet, white sip

From a dying rose.

Maple trees weaving a cloak of gold, green, and amber

Over the sun-roasted earth awaiting the rains

With a touch of lilac.

I was gone for two weeks and came home to a heavy-laden plum tree.

In a few days the fruits will turn blue

And I know the birds are waiting.

Winter

Veins, arteries, and capillaries

Spread out from the limbs

Of Mary’s tree in the winter.

I also see them on my gnarled old hands.

Spring

The color and sounds of May

Came late in my backyard.

Look!

Gentle green grass and strong weeds pushing rocks

Below the shy magenta buds clinging on swaying stalks.

Listen!
Birds chirping from the apple tree

A dog howling behind the fence

Stop!

Take small Spring steps

For gradually, and suddenly it will be Summer.

Summer

A cat, basking on a field of brown grass

And white morning glories

Splattered from the sun

Uncorked heat spilled on soft fur.

In solitude purrs

The intoxication of summer

Dry and freely poured.