It Is Very Far North
Four giddy days are all that spring allows
the drunken bumblings of our honey bees
before a south wind, stripping petalled boughs,
turns apples into ordinary trees.
Ours have weathered blizzards, freezing rain,
a record flood crest, and a May snow squall.
Now only scab, inchworms, and hail remain
to rob us of an ample apple fall,
a brief lifting of limbs before the snow
grips them with such reluctance to let go.
Very Far North, The Waywiser Press,
London, England, © 2002. Reprinted by
permission of the author.