5\/30\/17 — Thanks to Jo-Ann Mayer Orlinsky for sending this poem written by a friend, a retired English Teacher who sends a poem to her friends each week.<\/p>\n
More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out<\/em> –Ada Limon<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" 5\/30\/17 — Thanks to Jo-Ann Mayer Orlinsky for sending this poem written by a friend, a retired English Teacher who sends a poem to her friends each week. More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out of the crabapple tree, more … Continue reading
\n of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor\u2019s<\/em>
\n almost obscene display of cherry limbs<\/em> shoving<\/em>
\ntheir cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate<\/em>
\nsky of Spring rains, <\/b><\/span>it\u2019s the greening of the trees<\/em>
\nthat really gets to me. <\/span>When all the shock of white<\/em>
\nand taffy, the world\u2019s baubles and trinkets, leave<\/em>
\nthe pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,<\/em>
\nthe leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin<\/em>
\ngrowing over whatever winter did to us, <\/b><\/span>a return<\/em>
\nto the strange idea of continuous living despite<\/em>
\nthe mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,<\/em>
\nI\u2019ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf<\/em>
\nunfurling like a fist to an open palm, I\u2019ll take it all.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n