WINTER BLOSSOM

I am in a nursery

surrounded by

plants, trees and vines.

Winter blossoms.

I am waiting

for a poem

to find me

in this Garden

of Eden

in my neighborhood.

But what comes

is the light

and wind—the rapture 

of so many shades

of green, so many

translucent leaves

dancing against

an azure sky.

Maybe this is all

a poem is:

sunlight and leaves, 
a breeze,

swimming in
an infinity of blue.