Spring's first swallows have blown through
and struggle on these cold, wet, snowy mornings
to find anything flying, resembling breakfast...
Meadowlarks almost sing when sun finds a hole
as spinking sparrows and quieter relatives
slip into the country, quietly hopeful.
Red fox pups dare the morning's dog traffic,
Canada geese guard newly hatched broods,
blackbirds struggle to sort themselves out.
Ahhh the first sprouts of tender nettles wave
beckoning cuttings of tender new greens,
promising tonics and welcome nutrition.
The hum of town lawnmowers is not yet,
though lawn and yard torturers lurk gauging
the dew, the temperature, old patterns.
Perhaps... springs first mushrooms are up,
Perhaps... springs first mushrooms are up,
where winter deer sheds have already fallen
luring the wastrels to the woods.
--r.anderson 1May2011
