Timber Poem by Morgan Michaels

Overnight, the porch tree has burst into bloom.
Well, how do you do!
Malus sargontii, I think it's called
according to the tag on the twig
It tempts me to elation.

There is too much of this sort of thing-
blooming in a nation
determined to do itself in, in despair.
Where is the agonIA? ,
as the media (who simply report what is)
might rightfully ask.

Let's ignore it, the purply swoon
of Nature, the best author-
the rain of petally pink.
Let us focus on something more
pertinent to despair:
a movie made in Tinsel-town, maybe?
or better, some TV.