The backyard apple tree gets sad so soon, <br />takes on a used-up, feather-duster look <br />within a week. <br /> <br />The ivy’s spring reconnaissance campaign <br />sends red feelers out and up and down <br />to find the sun. <br /> <br />Ivy from last summer clogs the pool, <br />brewing a loamy, wormy, tea-leaf mulch <br />soft to the touch <br /> <br />and rank with interface of rut and rot. <br />The month after the month they say is cruel <br />is and is not.<br /><br />Jonathan Galassi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/may-46/
