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Anne Perron 

Tree of Heaven 
Sweet jungle scent blossomed the city's backyard. 
Sun -dappled street, 
the tree cast white flowers on our hair, 
on soft lawns, 
we turned cartwheels 
and the sky rolled sharp blue in our eyes. 

Summer, flowers turned to round green seeds, 
threw bamble sounds to grass. 
Gaslight lamps caught our first kisses, 
the tree slipped silhouettes to shadow 
and grew sharp scents in city air. 

Black tree boughs cradle children's ghosts, 
each with one small wish, 
dreams cast to the vivid clouds 
and never seen again. 

Melvin C. Fisher 

A Marvelous Thing 

Why is it such a marvelous thing 
to see the coming rain 
moving in dark straight lines 
slanting down from leaping clouds 
to see and hear drops smack the dust 
when the rain begins to fall 
and to hear chairs scrape 
on the porch as folks get up 
to run inside 
and to feel it fall cold and wet 
on neck and back 
and to sit near windows 
and see and hear the rain fall 
outside? 

Lois Tenbieg ·Godollei 

I Ride About 

I ride about 
In a little cart 
Running on a hidden track 
That masks my destination. 
I never know when a fee 
Will be asked of me, 
Or what the fee will be. 
The last collector 
Wanted clippings -
Five or six or so -
Rooted near the road. 
It took awhile. 
So I moved into the prisonhouse 
Of the sullen gardner's cave. 
I chanted prolix formulae, 
And pinned the vinings round and round: 
Staked them upright in the ground -
Watered them with tears -
And when that was not enough, 
I fed them with the gardner's blood 
And ran away again -
In the little rusting cart 
That no longer 
Stays upon the rail -
I think I've lost its bearing. 

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