a host of angel wings
ascending from the earth
from where they arose
The woods are filled with bright blossoms. Dutchman's breeches sprinkled everywhere under the trees, like spring snow. To me they look more like little lanterns with yellow flames swaying from red poles or like angels ascending, or maybe descending, on white or pink wings.
A small woodland flower with clusters of white bells flourishes among the dutchman's breeches, adding more spots of white to the dark leaf litter.
The wild plums are in full bloom, their fragrant scent wafting on a warm breeze as I walk to the mailbox.
Colonies of may apples poke their green skull buds up between the hunched green shoulders of their cloaking leaves.
The leaves undergo fantastic contortions as they unfold.
One may apple wears an oak leaf as a parasol.
Pale green-gold plumb bobs dangle from a hazel bush amidst the baby leaves.
On another understory tree, fantastic gold and red tassels drape along the twig below a fanfare of new leaves at the tip.
But this intrepid plant, literally busting a chunk of hard road clay, takes the prize for determination to grow.
