Come Under the Lemons

Come, under the lemons, where the rabbit
Left all the days to give rise to this tree.
We'll find the place to slip through sunlight,
Through clay, through wire.
Memory is a rabbit hole, watch your ankles--
Joy comes like a front in the morning
Turning the air into water and wind
Lifting and washing us.
Come, under the lemons, where the rabbit
Left us bitter and sweet and sun-yellow
Rising from the thick coastal mud, dark
And light, blooming.

Thankful for our small, mostly furry, family and for a community of poets this morning.  Sharing with The Sunday Muse and  Poets and Storytellers United. The amaryllis made it in time for the holiday! :) 

-- Chrissa