Well into April, the morning
is light pouring up from wet ground,
shining as tall ancient trees
which shone out silver and gold
across a newer world.
Now these lesser trees, though leafless
gleam bright in slanted day.
The willows glittering gold
above the cherries’ and maples’
ephemeral attire so bright
I have thus to shade my eyes.
Turning about in the warm spring day
remembering all the glory past
without speaking the ineffable names.
Seeking?
The Quote Box
John Quincy Adams is well but the house in which he lives at the present time is becoming dilapidated. It’s tottering on its foundations. Time and the seasons have nearly destroyed it. Its roof is pretty well worn out. Its walls are much shattered and tremble with every wind. I think John Quincy Adams will have to move out of it soon. But he himself is quite well, quite well. 1848
— John Quincy Adams 1767–1848The Cat Cam
Travels to NZ
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The start of this poem grabbed me!
“Well into April, the morning/
is light pouring up from wet ground,”
My brain won’t let it go . . . :)
Great! Thank you!
Mom loves this one too. Nice time together last night.