A Gardener's Words for the Day
I stare out the window at the green
Mahonia tree trembling as if in ecstasy,
the miracle of bushtits, little brown birds
flitting, the flock in a frenzy of feeding.
I gaze at the winter garden, osoberry
in bud, hellebores blooming mauve,
the sapling paper birch regal, its trunk
all rubies and copper. I open my laptop
to the pandemic—2 million dead, violence,
non-mask-compliance, and in Washington
DC, windows smashed, swastikas.
I learn my new words: Follicle. Panicle.
Petiole. Pedicel. Peduncle. Sedition.