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FIRST SPRING ON THE EASTERN SHORE by Sue Ellen Thompson

depoetry
September 28, 2016

Unaccustomed to Maryland’s
early spring, I open
the front door warily:
Warmth moves in.

The limbs of the Bradford Pear
are freighted with snowballs of bloom.
All night I hear
them pummeling the lawn.

Its brown silk torn
by the Oxford-to-Bellevue ferry,
the Chesapeake seems worn
out, dispirited,

unlike the fractious streams
of New England. I have given
up everything to be
here with my husband

in this mild place
I must learn to call home.
I am chilly and warm at the same
time, loved and alone.

To read more poetry by Sue Ellen Thompson, go to www.depoetry.com/poets/200712/thompsonsue.html.

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