There is apple pie in the sunshine with apples from our own tree, and there is the radiant face of a child buried in corn.
Held in warmth and darkness, the embryos await the light
Grow whole and plump out of the broken
Push their rumpled heads out of the night
Confession: I always thought the true colors of spring were rainbow pastels – lilac, mint, pink, baby blue, soft yellow. But when I went driving a week or two ago and really looked at the countryside, the colors weren’t what I expected. Rust was a big one, and chartreuse, scattered through the trees all over […]