Blossoms

Sparrows fill the sparse hedges and cling to cold limbs of blossoming plum trees. I receive the magistrate under the plums. Sparrows startle and scatter blossoms into our wine cups. Some can drink heavily and still write poetry; others can sit on the snow without realizing it’s melting. We drink all the wine. Spring comes, goes, and the plum trees take on a prosperous appearance.