A gray and rainy spring day is framed by the windows of my dining room.
Silver drops of cold hang from sharp holly leaves.
Winter smoky fog and sage greens linger peacefully in the ravine.
Tiny bright green noses of flowers to come
push through the newly laid chocolate mulch
as if they were hungry pups looking for their mother.
And at my table
sheltered in the artificial warmth
these brazen hussies fly open.
Full-faced trumpets imploring for touch and kiss and more.
Flowers of summer with their own
self-stimulation to satisfy their high ardor.