Prunus (September)

The refugee crisis may never cease. The prime minister’s mad? Before climate change the powers seem powerless. Then mishaps of daily existence, something gone missing, someone messing us around, somehow the feeling’s bad. Energies wear us down; yet driving the same old streets, always having to get somewhere, there are the trees. More particularly prunus, pink blossoms making up the full shape of each tree. In front garden, stark before red-brick, trim along nature strip, in September, prunus becomes visible and our being finds rest awhile from the larger and smaller tests of time. Time to think about practical actions.