It has been the most remarkable year for Mimosa.
It must have been that early February warmth because
I have never seen it flower so abundantly.
I usually miss the moment when a few branches can be found at the florist
but this year it was everywhere, smelling of clean water.
This one was in a scrubby little patch next to some public toilets.
Bonnard had it outside his studio window.
This painting at the Tate Modern exhibition
made a change from all the ones of his wives
stretched out palely in tepid bathwater.
Gorse and its coordinating This Way sign.
Purple leaved plum, now sadly blown about by recent gales.
Banner in a patch of rarely penetrating sunlight.
A bold decision to paint this dresser top.
Previously preserved in all its knotty, stained,
multi-nailed original condition for twenty years,
because it somehow seemed necessary to respect its antique status,
I suddenly saw it for what it was - ugly.
And it wouldn't be Spring (or Autumn) without observing
that the rainbows are back.