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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.

 

Timothy Murphy

 

 

From Very Far North, The Waywiser Press,
London, England, 2002.  Reprinted by
permission of the author.

Background
by Purple Woods


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