Budding
- Emi Gonzalez
Rain droplets turn into streams of water Run down making my view of budding trees a liquid blur The gushing sound of rain from my drainpipes makes me think how once barren trees are now budding with nature's first attempt at springtime
Rain
- Hannah Leigh Reis
Do you remember the taste of dew on the grass on autumn mornings? It puts a sort of tingle on your tongue, that sweet Indian curry. I tried to show you, but you didn't want to know. There were things to be done—to be fixed, to be cleaned, to be watched on that glowing little box we've become slaves to. "Who has the time for dew?" I know what you think, love, but I do. Autumn dissolved, and winter brought the frost and cold, woolen scarves wrapped tight, snowmen with their numb charcoal eyes—but we seemed trapped in a globe filled with swirling white pellets meant as something more. That passed, too. Now the beetles are crawling about and tiny sprigs of green keep popping out from inside the earth. But even with the warm touch of spring it's too late for us here, where unhatched birds are raining in the streets.
5