|Winter on the Arkansas River|
© 2013 SE Hudnall
Tell Me When the Dogwoods Bloom
Tell me when the dogwoods bloom
And the violets peak out from under their leaves.
I know the wild plums have come and gone
And I missed them.
Let me know when the azaleas come out.
White, pink, orange or red.
I don’t care which ones come first.
Oh, do say when the wisteria hangs thick and fragrant
Straining heavy on the vine.
Winter’s beauty is in ice and crystal
A thousand colors bound in one.
I won’t deny its beauty.
And I love it for its silence and earthbound light.
Yet it’s started to fade to gray by now
And the cold has sapped my heart
So please . . .
I don’t care about the tulips
And roses don’t mean much to me.
But do tell me when the dogwood blooms
It’s the dogwood I want to see.
A Winter-Spring Trilogy
In between now
And then the slumbering earth breathes
Winter, winter, spring.
Can’t tell which one will be the last snowflake. Perhaps this one? No. That one!
Said as snowflakes little liars
Not so this winter.
Pranksters in the Churchyard
Giggling beneathThe unswept leaves of autumn
Imitating melting snowJoke’s on them. I saw. Did you?