poem

Plum tree

The plum tree in my backyard is blooming.

I'm new to recognizing
The timing on these things, but--

February 28 seems early.

Thin branches reach toward the sky,
Diagonal lines covered in clusters of buds,
opening flowers, pale signs of life,
I find myself looking at it all day.

Maybe the flowers are a sign of the climate apocalypse, but--

They are a sign of plums and honey bees, too.

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