Bumper crop of damn-near everything
thriving since last season’s rain
that bogged us to a standstill.
Red oak galls on the Valley Oak,
Tarweed yellow on open slopes.
Earth alive with frogs and rodents,
she moves with grace beneath
a new summer dress I haven’t seen
before—or perhaps I have forgotten
or ignored. A man must be careful
with hackneyed compliments
like ‘wild’ and ‘beautiful’.