The Lindens on McGill--1957
(A gift for my dear father)
In springtime
the Lindens on McGill
rained down catkins.
They slithered dew worm like
down the street on windy days.
Big, fat worms they were to us and
we imagined them
pierced and wiggling on our hooks.
Sitting there with Easter haircuts and folded up knees,
we'd cast off from sidewalk riverbanks into waters wide and deep as memory.
The only shimmering fish that ever got away--our youth.
Love,
Jill
I am including a link to another poem about a Linden tree--this one by the most famous German lyrical poet prior to Goethe. A gorgeously sensuous medieval love poem.
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