I walked through Prospect Park after our recent ice storm, and it was so beautiful that I kept on going. Just on its other side is the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, in a narrow wedge of land between Flatbush and Washington Avenues.
Geese graised on the frosted grass.
Southern magnolias stood petrified.
Persian ironwood buds held their breath.
Pussy willow laughed.
Crocuses cried. But pulled themselves together.
Winterberry glittered.
(It comes in yellow, too.)
And the witch hazels let down their hair.
They were made for this.
__________________
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments on posts older than 48 hours are moderated (for spam control) . Yours will be seen! Unless you are a troll. Serial trollers are banned.