How nice it is to see spring unsheathing from the apple’s
hard buds. The maple starts with seeds,
red, joined at the head, their membranous wings
hanging like sleeves; behind them the trident leaves
hang back, their tips like an animal’s capillary
bundle, precious and fresh, sipping at the changeable
weather. The apples bursts out. Leaves and blossoms
tumbling as from a tight back – somewhat difficult
to unpack everything, but once the first present themselves
the rest hurl softly into air.
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