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

unnoticed, unseen for the weeds.

Look!

Gentle grass peeking from rocks and clay

cheering the shy magenta buds clinging on swaying stalks.

Listen!

Birds chirping from the apple tree, dog howling behind the

fence, squirrels dropping almond shells.

Stop!

Take small Spring steps, taste today, 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.