Sometime in the night the fever broke
and morning dawned cool,

drops of rain adhering to the handrail
like blisters, the maples greener

for their washing.  One to the west
is turning yellow, one to the east

is not, instead rusting in spots,
anthracnose, a disease of trees.

It’s hard to shake the feeling
that this winter might be rougher

than the last, maybe blight
is only blight but if it’s a sign

what else could it mean?