The backyard apple tree gets sad so soon,   
takes on a used-up, feather-duster look   
within a week. 


The ivy’s spring reconnaissance campaign   
sends red feelers out and up and down   
to find the sun. 


Ivy from last summer clogs the pool,   
brewing a loamy, wormy, tea-leaf mulch   
soft to the touch 


and rank with interface of rut and rot. 
The month after the month they say is cruel   
is and is not.


BY JONATHAN GALASSI