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Tag Archives blossom

MARCH

It is almost April, but the day before
yesterday hail spattered on the pavings,
lightning fell like a branch, thunder resounded
across the city and the comedy dog,
from two doors down, did his hoarse yip, yap, yap yip.

Yesterday, an east wind shuddered
the cherry blossom and blew the bees awry
and I thought the seasons disjointed.

Today, white blossom and apple-green leaves
formed a bright canopy – and I remembered
a year ago not twenty miles from here
were snowdrifts waist high and tall trees felled.

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RITES

That rite of passage of the middle class –

chauffeuring offspring to the varsity –

took us the breadth of England, from Hoole to Hull.

Extending her childhood, our parenthood

or both, we travelled the edge of hope

and longing, by acres of burning stubble

and slagheaps greening. In the rearview mirror,

she leant forward to gossip about

the future…When she was eight, we’d planted

her cherry tree, knowing she would one day

climb up it and out of sight.

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