It drizzled all day today. The sky is entrenched in that winter gray. I decided to go see what was going on in the garden. It was still asleep, mostly. With hints of green in the pots at the garden’s edge. Nothing is defined though, could all just be wild things as far as I could tell.
A seagul cries. I look skyward just in time to see it soar across the gray and see its partner answer, then follow it.
My eyes move to the bare branches of that small tree. It gets those fragrant white blooms that entice many birds in the spring. I think it starts out wiith berries. Its the water cooler of the back yard. I still don’t know what it is but it smells heavenly. It smells like spring.
among strewn decay crisp tall grass and withered vines- fragile heather blooms
For Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, poet’s choice this week.