This so called labor of love.
How like the pear tree
In my backyard
With its imperfect fruit.
How can I bear like you?
So natural and unstruggled.
So at ease with your gift.
April 24, 2010
This Work of Mine
March 29, 2010
The Song
It is not logical to hear such a melody
this late spring
when the rains are still cold.
I had to stop when it first came,
its beckoning unrecognizable
or too familiar.
How can the frozen earth not
crack
to such song?
How can the numb cardinal not
sing
to the first sun?
It was almost too late
the sound of the first rain drop.
I stopped only because it hurt.
That dark echo.
That flash of sound.
-Francisco X. Stork
March 29, 2010
