Childhood memory

Palo Alto Morning

April 7, 2009

A pouty shroud

of morning fades,

her time today gone

and gloss arrives to

lounge about every

dark, waxy leaf

moving like some

grande dame who

simply must cast off

a slipstream of ivory

scent, more delicate than

lemons thinly sliced

I know what this means.

I squint and sneeze;

Magnolias have opened.

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For Mom, who introduced me to these beauties

Image by machado17