Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Fleeting forsythia finally’ Category

I found this poem last spring, just after the last forsythia bush had turned green. I had to wait a whole year for the next blooming, and then I found that the poem is absolutely right. No one does plant forsythia anymore. The forsythia I found was mostly on private property. Private property with overgrown yews and old landscaping.

 

I finally found a row of forsythia by the library, separating the parking lot from a busy highway:

 

poem is in bush

poem is in bush

 

and taped Alison Brackenbury’s “Schemes” to a branch:

Image

I love this little poem, but can’t figure out why it’s called “Schemes.” Any ideas?

Advertisements

Read Full Post »