Witness

Atop the pink magnolia
branch, Sir Crimson calls
a formal request to his mate,
or, a warning. He, a sentry,
guards the neighboring crab
apple as her petals shed
blizzard-like rushes of white.
April snow drifts and
piles by the wooden slatted
fence weathered by decades.
First, the starry drops of blue
waterfalls in green water,
step carefully down the hills
and yards of neighbors, whose
children delight in this nascent
springtime ritual. And Tulips
like rainbow, fire-crackers,
because they depart so quickly,
we applaud the color guards,
rows of tap dancers, like peacocks
breathing in and breathing out…
momentarily displaying their plumages
for those who are lucky enough
to witness the splendor.

Susan Ward Trestrail, 2017

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