In Perpetual Spring
By Amy Gerstler
Gardens are also good places
to sulk. You pass beds of
spiky voodoo lilies
and trip over the roots
of a sweet gum tree,
in search of medieval
plants whose leaves,
when they drop off
turn into birds
if they fall on land,
and colored carp if they
plop into water.
Suddenly the archetypal
human desire for peace
with every other species
wells up in you. The lion
and the lamb cuddling up.
The snake and the snail, kissing.
Even the prick of the thistle,
queen of the weeds, revives
your secret belief
in perpetual spring,
your faith that for every hurt
there is a leaf to cure it.
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Wednesday was my day to get lots of bonus work done because I have so many extracurriculars going on this week! It didn't all get done (i.e. the laundry is still waiting to be folded, since I took a walk and saw a baby bunny and that distracted me for a while because of course I had to take its picture), but I am only way behind on emails and Facebook comments and things that in principle my friends will forgive, while I am mostly on target with Actual Work except wow do I need to vacuum the living room.
I've mostly been avoiding Tumblr because it's a solid wall of Baltimore rage -- understandably, but even people living in Baltimore take a break to laugh with their families and watch schlocky TV -- but I did have to check the Kingsman tag when I heard a sequel was officially in the works and it was pure joyous fannish squee, which I can appreciate even as someone who didn't like the movie. In the spirit of finding things to be happy about, here are some photos of this beautiful day just in my own neighborhood:
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