On a warm dry spring day last week
I went to an arborium in Boston for a picnic.
While walking
I found forsythia bushes
that made me lose a sense of space instantly
took me to Korea
playing an old film of the memories
of my childhood, youth and young adult years.
They are the first flowers in spring
in the city I lived.
After a dull brown winter
brilliant yellow on a dusty spring day always fluttered my heart.
In an arborium
I unexpectedly encountered who I was long ago
an accidental blessing
