Friday, March 4, 2016


Above photo through app-Circular
I associate Spring with purple as much as I do green.  Perhaps, it's the backyard lilac bushes from childhood.  I admit ceanothus are wondrous but not the lilac of my youth.  But then again, Spring is a lament of sorts.  As is memory.  Memory of Mom's spaghetti sauce.  Memory of Easter hats & gloves.  Memory of the last notebook filled with black ink & spaces between all those gestures.

1 comment:

  1. Wouldn't it be fabulous
    to understand his song?
    This bird so glad to find
    food in sight?

    ( I realized I was getting hungry and held off eating for awhile, only to feel for a moment the beginnings of desire, how it quickens the appetite.)