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  1. WHEN RAIN BEADS ROLL OFF LEAVES

    If each of those fat beads of rain rolled off those leaves,
    what would the bleeding-heart offer for weary eyes
    in the morning when sunlit dewdrops sparkle? Leaves.

    Each foliate sprout should be reason enough for being.
    Each leaf will, in the height of seasons before a late fall,
    be spun-over refuge of spiders stalking cocoons

    erupting into preening papillons, or fountainheads
    for termite and weevils, slalom pads for ants, ladybugs,
    and sieves for trickling sap: a whole universe of use.

    O, how quickly the magic of spring turns into dry days,
    when we wonder where the wood thrushes have gone,
    their trill drowned by the banshee wail of rustling foliage.

    —Albert B. Casuga
    05-20-11


  2. Spell-check please, Dave. 6th line should read:
    be spun-over refuge of spiders stalking cocoons
    (“spun” it is, eh wot?)

    Thanks. (:–P)



  5. Wood thrushes seem scarce here as well.

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