summer aches to release
pollen and petals and catkins
all drop this time in spring,
like pieces from a rocket
no longer needed after they allow the ascent,
the ground is strewn with it all
as if a ticker-tape parade has gone through,
this year’s tree seeds, and last year’s,
both use the wind to twirl and spiral
toward a future that calls to them,
meanwhile the trees release their leaves into fullness,
countless solar collectors
that make their hay while the sun shines,
my cherries and blueberries have set into green pods
and reach toward color and sweetness,
the tomatoes, too, reach to actualize the potential
that summer aches to release.
by Henry H. Walker
April 22, ‘15
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