Like a light cloud, a soft drizzle
of rainfall over the garden.
In the wetness of the yard,
I stand and look at the clouds of
tiny green leaves covering the
orchard of plums. These are the
very same plums that pushed off
white blossom carpets that now
cover the ground around and
beneath their still winter-black
limbs. Although green sprouts of
spring poke bravely up through
cold clods of earth at my feet,the
tall ghosts of last years' goldenrod
bathe and bask like clouds of
forgotten memories in the rays and
beams of light pouring down and
drowning in this light drizzle of spring.
:-) -papermoon