Ode to O.C. Haenni's Market by Travis

Beneath the striped awning, tales unfold,

Of meats hung high in the winter's cold.

A butcher's trade, both grit and pride,

In Southwest Garden, time did bide.

With cleavers sharp and aprons white,

They served their craft by lantern light.

A market bustling, a bygone place,

Where history lingers in every trace.

The cobbled steps, the dog at play,

Echo whispers of another day.

O.C. Haenni's stands steadfast, true,

A portal to lives that once we knew.

Cherry Tree by Sara

There is a moment

When colorful buds

Peer, half-asleep

Through heavy lids,

And wonder if they have

A few moments more

To rest like weary eyes

Before busy visitors - humming and buzzing

As they fill their pockets with golden pollen treasure -

Arrive.

But the sun is warm.

And the songbird is here - joined by another and another -

Together sounding the alarm that spring has finally come.

So it is time to wake up.

This is just to say by William Carlos Williams (sent in by Lisa)

I have eaten 

the plums

that were in 

the icebox

and which 

you were probably

saving 

for breakfast.

Forgive me 

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold