By Harryette Mullen
The botanical garden is just as I remember,
although it is certain that everything
has changed since my last visit.
How many hilarious questions these fuzzy
fiddleheads are inquiring of spring
will be answered as green ferns unfurl?
Walking the path, I stop to pick up
bleached bark from a tree, curled into
a scroll of ancient wisdom I am unable to read.
Even in my dreams I’m hiking
these mountain trails expecting to find a rock
that nature has shaped to remind me of a heart.
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Home. Jetlagged. Cats so happy to see us they walked on us all night. About 3/4 unpacked. Two laundries washed, not yet folded. Photos only 1/3 uploaded to Flickr. Cat food and French bread acquired at food store. 80 degrees out, despite it being February. Crocuses and apricot blossoms in Cabin John Park. Dinner with parents. Now distracted by Hugh Jackman on The Tonight Show. More when awake. Pics of ancient Roman sites in Arles, including the amphitheater, Alyscamps necropolis, Thermes de Constantin, and 1st century theater:
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