Spring’s flowers screaming,
summer blooms still aborning.
Seedlings need water.
Red flowers open,
pomegranates in waiting.
We’ll soon make sun tea.
Proteas whisper.
Bougainvillas scream color.
Pastels still enchant.
Epi’s bloomed briefly,
cactus flowers much the same.
I must call my Friends.
Orange Navels are eaten
Valencia’s unfavored
What of the apples?
Brown season will come,
with smoke on the horizon
We must mend the roof
White snow still on peaks
Summer thirsts for its melting
Let’s
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