Monday, April 09, 2018

Fits and Starts and Decisions

...Or should that be Starts and Fits? 

That is the way spring has come 
She is like a transgender child 
Not sure which dance step 
To put forth on the soft wet earth 
The step of energetic athlete 
The step of floating ballerina 
The step of the timid morning Fox 
Looking to steal a furred babe

Spring is more muddled this year 
She swirls in cold weather 
Followed by angelic afternoon sunshine 
Followed by stinging, sleety rain 
The yellow trumpets in the corner 
Have lowered their heads in submission 
Buried in icy pellets on a few afternoons 

Then lift up in reverent joy 
To announce spring's arrival 
While the warm sun scratches their backs 

Are we to be hedonistic 
Or are we to be stalwart 
Even the Osprey has been both warrior 
And distracted traveler 
Both the Goose and the Mallard 
Have attempted to usurp the platform 
Today the Osprey seems to sit in ownership 
This morning the river is glassine
The naked trees are neither alive nor dead 
Standing like brown replicates 
The birds sing 
Then freeze in place 
As if surprised at their own pure voice
Today all is still 
Still waiting for spring


ellen abbott said...

even us down here where spring is well established got a reminder of how mean this winter has been.

Studio Maywyn said...

Beautiful words and pictures describing this spring
Snow dusting last night, sky barely able to show Moon's 3rd quarter, and cold again today despite being sunny.

Marie Smith said...

Love your expression of the want of spring.

Red said...

It almost looks like we could miss spring and just bump into summer. Like your poem.

messymimi said...

We are still pulling on sweaters in the swamps. Spring is just very cool this year is how i am seeing it.

Linda Reeder said...

Wonderful writing! Are we all being teased by spring?

diane b said...

I can hear your wish for Spring to really arrive.

Mage said...

Nice...I like it.
Here we sort of have spring. There's a row of dead trees in front of our condo, and I am hoping they are only sleeping.

Granny Annie said...

Love the poem and the pictures! You are brilliant.