BY GAIL PECK
Copyright is held by the author.
Spring comes on in a rush. Seasonal flush in your pulse.
Birdsong loud in the morning.
Earth in sodden thaw —
grass twitching, bugs testing the air
for the full onslaught at a later date.
Daffodils break out in round yellow grins
as you see them grow by the hour.
Trees wait for the starting gun to put their leaves in play.
That fireball tarries in the evening later and later
pulling life from winter shuttered homes.
Walkers and joggers along the road morning and dusk,
all hurrying to catch the train to summer.
Our inward winter gaze is turned out
as drums begin to throb in roots and buds
in time to the sway of the earth’s tilting shimmy.
Yesterday it was snowing.
Today we’re blushing brides walking down the aisle in nature’s cathedral.