Poetry Friday: Winter Cherry Cinquain

Happy Poetry Friday! I am sharing a cinqain today, a shorter form but kind of fun for its simplicity and compact succinctness. Yesterday the boys and  I pulled over because I spotted the first blooms of tiny, flowers on the dormant looking branches of a Prunus subhirtella, the winter cherry. It was bitter cold so the boys all stayed bundled in the car while I braved the frosty air, breathing smoky clouds of breath on the branches in the sunlight. I took one tiny blossom into the car and let my four year old hold the tiny bloom up to his eye, examining the minute gold stamens with a smile. This is all in December, in New England...in below freezing temperatures, mind you.

 Last year I noticed the little blossoms in February by chance and went dashing home all full of global warming sadness and googled to see if other people in my area were seeing cherry trees bloom far, far too early.  Instead I met this particular species of cherry and found out that it was happily doing exactly what it was supposed to be doing....blooming "sporadically from autumn until spring." There is a whole row of them there, standing side by side all along the parking lot. This year, knowing they are there now the boys and I will keep enjoying the gradual, gentle show. I do love an unexpected pleasure. 

Winter Sakura

I find
Pale, petals
Fluttering in the chill park
December-time cherry blossoms.
Rosy snow. 

 Alison is hosting Poetry Friday round-up today over on her blog Robin Hood Black. Take a lazy, meander through the offerings and enjoy a little poetry with your Saturday morning tea. I am hoping to get a chance myself, mug in hand, baby on my knee....

Spring Is In Full Swing!

Well, life is as jolly as it gets around here. Dee has been given his own little dolly baby by my good friend Pintura who smuggled it out of their house and snuck it into my backpack this morning at MOPS. She has an excess of baby dolls at her house (two daughters seems to do that to you) and we needed one for a sweetly paternal little boy who has been wrapping everything and nothing in little baby washcloths and cooing them around the house in cradle hold. Just the perfect trade. Everybody wins. He's been super cute all day, carting "Baby" around with him announcing that now Baby was sleeping and now he was giving Baby milk and now Baby was "cying!" Sweet little man. He's going to make a top notch big brother.

After MOPS the boys and I cruised up to the farm for milk and eggs and a visit with the farmer's baby chicks and then we whizzed to Nutmeg's house for a little yard romp with Sprig and a cold glass of iced ginger/orange/lemon tea...MMmmmm! Hard to believe that its warm enough for ice tea already but, today was quite warm...on our way to pick up A from work the car's thermometer said 89 degrees at 5:00 in the afternoon. Awfully fun but, pretty surreal in the same breath.

And as Nutmeg quipped..."It isn't time for iced tea. This is an illusion." It will be back to spring instead of summer in a few days if the weatherman is right. True, true...and yet...who can resist the joy of flip flops and a sizzling back patio lounging session with a cold glass in their hand...seasonally appropriate or no.

We're neck deep here in magnolias, cherry blossoms, bradford pear blooms, forsythia, daffodils and flowering quince. The world has become a frothy sea of floating petals and misty  floral wonder. Every night when we're driving A home from work now I say, "Look! Look! Look at that!!" I hope it never gets old and that every spring I am stunned by the breathless beauty of it all. So far, so good.