keeps watch atop a budding pear.
Trill sergeant red above
the echoing trash men's
Springer spaniel needs brushing,
loose matts of liver brown curl
scattered in the trees
for sparrow nests.
The tulip momento
of my Pastor's daughter's funeral
pushes through mud,
the yellow ones
we bought at market may blossom
sooner, but they won't match
the smile of her memorial
A man of the cloth
cut no different from the rest.
This spring will gain a flower
but be short a bloom.