for James and Franz
The peach sapling in front of me
personifies a defiance behind which
more flowering trees gather.
An old oak that long ago lost its leaves
grows a new white branch reaching upward
with capillary fingers for a blue April sky.
The white cloud above that assumed the bottle
nose dolphin shape is now a boxing glove
slowly becoming a human brain.
Various bird songs blend with the wind
creaking the wood slatted fence
our neighbor's maple grove leans upon.
Never mind the sound of passing rubber tires
or the commuter rail train clanking by.
I have tried to make the best of my life.
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