First day of the month—
 
a purple iris greets me
 
near the backyard fence.

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Last day of the month—
 
sunlight the color of tea
 
leaks through my window.

 
 
 

Cloudless April day—
 
I walk a desert pathway,
 
consoled by birdsong.

 
 
 

Six days past Easter
 
my plum tree drops its blossoms—
 
snowflakes in the grass.

 
 
 

Five days past Easter
 
my plum tree is still wearing
 
its white finery.

 
 
 

Four days past Easter
 
a crow on the backyard fence
 
mocks me as I mow.

 
 
 

Three days past Easter
 
the housefly in my bedroom
 
makes itself at home.