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Friday, March 30, 2018

Wisteria by Peter Makuck

When the trees reach a gauzy green
before peak leafage, it begins to appear
dangling down like a nest for some
fantastic bird, ten to thirty feet above
ground, color ranging from purple
to a light lavender, unseen for a year.
And if the color doesn't pinch attention,
its fragrance will, filling your car
on that first warm day when you drive
with windows down on a country road.
Some cluster like bunches of grapes,
or hang like light-blue lanterns left
by someone who knows we need them,
or swaying censers, their sweet balm
filtering inward, making everything new.

   --Peter Makuck, 
       Mandatory Evacuation: Poems

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