by Ethel Mortenson Davis
The Tree
Everything depends
on the apricot tree in bloom
across my neighbors fence—
A tree of butterflies!
Desert
The cornflowers are gaining
and soon will be in bloom.
Where are the rain-showers
of spring?
Iris
Cold nights
catch us off guard.
Will the iris
lose its life again?
Progress
Progress
is the budding branch,
the Painted Ladies
warming their wings
on my garden wall.
fourwindowspress 
Hi Thomas and Ethel, these poems of Ethel are each of them moments in time, holding beautiful flowers. In other words, delicate and inspiring! 🙂
Ethel, this is a beautiful (and hopeful) ode to the birth pains of spring! I love:
Painted Ladies
warming their wings
on my garden wall.
Your poem warms my own wings!
I love the inter-relatedness of these poems… aspects of the same thing. Wonderful! Your first line reminds me of William Carlos Williams’s “Red Wheelbarrow”
Very lovely, Ethel–I too, am captivated by the “painted ladies”!! Very nice!! Wishing you and the family a blessed Easter weekend~~love, Caddo
Hello – loved it! thanks
These are charming! I especially like the connection between the image of blossom like butterflies and butterflies budding on the branch.
‘Everything depends
on the apricot tree in bloom
across my neighbors fence—’
…for me this speaks, as the whole poem does, of how much our survival (in body, mind and spirit) is affected by the constancy and inconsistencies of nature.
An exquisite poem, Ethel!
What a wonderfully formed four-pronged celebration of spring in various places and times! Many-branched is Spring!
Heart-warming, Ethel.