The green burstsFrom the earthWhile I am still insideBy the fireWaiting for springDoubting that sheWill come.

Purple cloverSweet to see asSweet to smellChildren gather your stemsFor their mother's vases;Your patches like amethyst Circles of paintOn the palette of Monet.

Old cat rests In a bed of  iris sproutsWatchingWaiting for nightTime to prowlTime to huntOld cat, so gentle,Still wild? No