Crab Apple Trees
By Larry Schug
I’m tempted to say these trees belong to me,
take credit for blossoms that gather sunrise
like stained glass windows,
because eighteen springs ago
I dug holes for a couple of scrawny seedlings,
spread their roots in a bed of manure,
watered them, supported them with stakes and twine
until the saplings could stand alone in the wind.
But now, the flowering crabs in my yard,
like grown children, have business of their own,
bumblebees to feed,
and small sour balloons to inflate
by the time autumnal flocks
of robins and cedar waxwings
come to them for sustenance.
My reward is in the way my eyes
gorge on brilliant blossoms,
the sweet aroma my nose inhales
like a rich dessert
in a restaurant for the senses.
My Friday was pretty uneventful. Had a long phone conversation with my sister and a long text conversation with my oldest friend, both about health care and our kids to a large degree. Went for a walk in the afternoon to see the emerging azaleas and crab apples that are already getting green among the pink.
I loved this week's The Falcon and the Winter Soldier on pretty much every level -- Sam's arc, Bucky's arc, Walker's arc, what happened with Zemo, the training montage, the guest star I'm betting we'll see a lot more of. I really would like Karli to be redeemable and I really hope Sharon has not turned villain.
Then we caught up on The Flash, which did not hold my interest except when Caitlin was around, and Kung Fu, which again I liked a lot -- good balance of drama and action, interesting characters, hints of a big broader picture, a bit of humor though it could use a bit more. The aforementioned crab apples: