No items found.

April 15, 2007 7:45 p.m.

Available in:
No items found.

A glowing, black-boughed cherry
In glory on the lawn,
Stands stripped of leaf or berry,
It’s wind-whipped blossom borne

As if in mute defiance
Of what I cannot know —
For neither wit nor science
Could match this matchless show —

As now the sun creeps, laden
With orange, twilight fire,
To kiss this white-lipped maiden —
And, awe-struck, I retire.