Technicolor

The contrast catches an eye: a ruffled mass of pink against a crisp March morning sky.

Under it I stand, in the school courtyard, surrounded by painted brick, corrugated metal, and the red padlocks, neatly rowed along the lockers.

Painter's tape holds up a torn poster, announcing a meeting of the senior class: April 1st.

It's trumpet-shaped flowers rustle and fall in an animating breeze.

Paths, brown dirt, cut through the grass and by the recycle can, evidence of where students opted to stray from a concrete path laid out for them.

Buds of its three siblings are still locked in winter. All have not eaten since the autumn; their leaves retreated long ago.

But what of this one, hearing first the call of spring? It ventures a pink coat of blossom 'fore wearing its green







Bumblebees lumber from bloom to bloom. When sated here, they will move on, hoping

that another has risked a pink coat of blossom


IN

March 28th, 2009

Thoughts on the 'Arroyo Simi Overhead,' Prequeled

What use is the news? I seem to have no need for them anymore.
I know the struggles and problems of the world.
The reports are old: just the same crisis

cycling,
cycle crisis

we learn
______that we do not learn

cycle crisis