april reflection

more dandelion wine simmering in gallon jugs next to the radiator, more in the kettle on the stove. golden yellow sunsets stain the sidewalk as i ramble around the neighborhood,
all the clouds look like they belong in an episode of the simpsons,
the last of the daffodils are fading away, and the air smells utterly of crabapple blossoms,
high up in the pines, hummingbirds are twittering,
the parasites circle closing in on affordable housing turned into unaffordable condos,
the last days of porch furniture and barbecue grills are upon us,
younger whiter faces walk the sidewalks,
i ponder these things sitting on my porch potting up plants and sipping on last year's oak leaf wine in the fading light of day,
abandoning the jacket to go across the street to pick more dandelions for another pot of wine,
listening to the hum of the trains and boats by the river,
if i fail to notice the passing of spring, i can still see summer is rolling in like the tail ends of thunderstorms across the mountains of the west slope.