I'm just back from the sisters adventure. The Western skyscapes and lolling hills still haunt my thought, the long miles of song, of green spilled floodlike over mountain and plain, and the thoughts sparked by all that color are simmering on the back burner of my thought. A post shall soon be ready to serve. I shall also soon be writing about why, in a week, I'm deactivating my Facebook account. The more I contemplate it, the more reasons I conjure.
But for now, because I haven't even unpacked yet and the ebullient grace of these peonies and the king's ransom richness of these tulips are too much to keep to myself, I give you a slice of what I saw in the marvelous Pikes Market. And with it, a poem for spring.