Wherever we go, the chance for joy,
whole orchards of amazement—
one more reason to always travel
with our pockets full of exclamation marks,
so we might scatter them for others
like apple seeds.
Some will dry out, some will blow away,
but some will take root
and grow exuberant groves
filled with long thin fruits
that resemble one hand clapping—
so much enthusiasm as they flutter back and forth
that although nothing’s heard
and though nothing’s really changed,
people everywhere for years to come
will swear that the world
is ripe with applause, will fill
their own pockets with new seeds to scatter.
Posted by kind permission of the poet. From Naked for Tea (Able Muse Press, 2018). All rights reserved.
Here is the landscape of my son, prying open the horizon with his grin, of…
Yes there is fear. Yes there is isolation. Yes there is panic buying. Yes there…
Walking the river back home at the end of May, locust in bloom, an oriole…
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