A Pause

We came home

to discover that the Master Artist had been at work:

the trees, Hand-blown glass.

This morning, 35 degrees and sunny.

I put a bucket on my head to ward off falling ice.


Willem hears the pattering of hooves,

then, suddenly, a gunshot!

A branch snaps and staggers to the ground.


I hear rain on a tin roof...


or is it applause...

hesitant
applause?


The orchestra is playing Spring.