Pyracantha And Plum

Last autumn's chastened berries still on one tree,

spring blossoms seeming tender,

hopeful, on another.

The view from this window

much as it was ten years ago, fifteen.

Yet it seems this morning

a self-portrait both clearer and darker,

as if while I slept some Rembrandt or Brueghel

had walked through the garden, looking hard.