I know It Will Be Spring
I know it will be spring
When the geese take up and leave
Yes, they’re beautiful graceful things
Their droppings though my peeve
I resent the season
Migration filling skies
A calendar with reason
Even so tears my eyes
Autumn, but a slant of change
A casual cool correction
Beauty in flight high and strange
Season’s savage intersection
I remember the sun
On its loving summer arc
Children ever on the run
Sleeveless in the park
Grown to love warmth and ease
And even winter’s thaw
I see the cold an ugly tease
Catching me bitter and raw
Every day the feathered armada
Noisily hugs the shore
Summer is persona-non-grata
And I want it all the more
SEED TIME
Spring is coming
even to my narrow
little valley
I can tell because the post office
is delivering seed catalogs
and silence
the local vehicle of discussion
When people think you’ve erred
somehow their lives get larger,
Silent when you enter the room
Still, there’s a sadness
when seeds don’t come to
attention – straight and narrow
on the first or second try outside
Blindly swinging at weather
that isn’t there
No shame in a tear shed
As the seedling is brought back inside
put at the table (yet again) to feast
on the love and attention
it failed to imbibe in its rush
to bloom
Inside provides the walls the structure
that can now tame my seed’s
“pathological enthusiasm” –
the stuffing of too much life in soil
too lightly tilled
My Seedling:
Come inside where it’s warm
Do not regret your seed-time
Just learn – reall
Spring is coming
Seed catalogs
brighten winter’s gloom
Leafing the pages I await
you
Your authentic unrushed bloom
