In spring these trees are kingly clad,
Their velvet robes drape Stratford Ave.
In violet jacaranda blooms
That reign above
From May to June
Then rain on down
When summer comes,
And rotting purple majesty
Doth shed its curséd grace on the
Windshields and hoods of cars
And the neighborhood's sidewalks and yards
Where they shrivel and brown
And stick to the ground;
They’re stepped on and swept up
And sprayed into gutters and washed away
But for the random rotten blossom,
Here and there,
They’re all but forgotten.
Beneath the leafy canopy of mid-September,
Who can remember?
With blossoms that are new--
Just outside the schoolyard
Where I leave you to join the other girls,
Already in bloom.