“Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near…” Matthew 24: 32
—and the clouds gather into scrolls over the foothills
—and the crepe myrtles fall on the pavements as if it were spring
—and meadow plants turn limp, while some stiffen as though they were bristles in winter
—and the river’s surface is flecked with bits of foam and plastic, and shadows of wading birds
—and passing trains pitch their whistle to the winds
—and afternoons are hardest, for their shore is the in-between
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.