Tag Archives: lilac

A pair of Carolina wrens—one...

A pair of Carolina wrens—one in the lilac, the other in the dead cherry—flit from branch to branch, tasting the new-fallen snow.

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With the leaves down I can see not...

With the leaves down I can see not only farther, but deeper: through a maze of lilac branches, I spot a rabbit when its dark eye blinks.

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Another warm morning. A Carolina wren...

Another warm morning. A Carolina wren pops out of the bridal wreath bush like a rabbit from a magician’s hat and ascends the lilac, singing.

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In the cold drizzle, a kinglet hovers...

In the cold drizzle, a kinglet hovers over the faded lilac leaves, hawking prey too small to see. Then it, too, vanishes into the gloom.

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Humid, yet still so dry that the lilac...

Humid, yet still so dry that the lilac leaves hang limply. In my last dream before waking, I couldn’t find the exit from an endless mall.

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Gone for just two days, I come home...

Gone for just two days, I come home to find half the lilac crushed by a fallen limb from the dead elm. A phoebe already uses it as a perch.

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Random lilac, red maple and black cherry...

Random lilac, red maple and black cherry leaves have flipped over, exposing their pale undersides—evidence of a downpour in the wee hours.

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The French lilac, backlit by the sun...

The French lilac, backlit by the sun, shimmers like a bright green sail against the still-open woods. A field sparrow’s rising trill.

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This will be the last new update until May 17th; I’m off to the U.K. to give a poetry reading and visit friends.

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Even the invaders’ spring is...

Even the invaders’ spring is late: barberry, lilac, multiflora rose just now leafing out, the hated myrtle purpling what used to be a lawn.

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Hard rain falling into slush, and the...

Hard rain falling into slush, and the fog thickening: cloud into cloud. Buds glow yellow on the lilac where two titmice flit.

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