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| Blue sky and trees, La Brea Blvd. |
Just last night I joked with a friend that if it weren't for the perfect weather, I'm not sure what I'd do with -- well -- my life, to tell you the truth. Hyperbole aside (and that wouldn't include the weather), here's a perfect poem that appeared in the Borzoi Reader this perfect morning.
Sonnet for Minimalists
From a new peony,
my last anthem,
a squirrel in glee
broke the budded stem.
I thought, Where is joy
without fresh bloom,
that old hearts' ploy
to mask the tomb?
Then a volunteer
stalk sprung from sour
bird-drop this year
burst in frantic flower.
The world's perverse,
but it could be worse.
Mona Van Duyn
