Spring Poems

The geraniums (and a lone kalanchoe) were my winter gardening project. Enjoy the poems. Leave a comment on your emotions with the arrival, sometimes with clinging tendrils of winter, of the spring season.

Spring is Coming

This morning I went out
To fetch the paper by the road
And greeting me
High in a tree
Was a cardinal
All decked in red.
He sang to me
That sunny morn
Of coming spring
Warm and bright
Of crocuses coming
Through melting snow.
When his song was done
Another voice came lifting
The whippoorwill was
Down the street.
Wip-poor-poor-will
Came the call,
Greet the day now dawning
Heed the cardinal
The snow is going
Spring is soon arriving!

Spring Not Yet

The spring dark descends quickly

Bringing a breeze that will be warm

When the summer arrives but now

Is cool, almost cold, reflecting

Winter just recently receded.

The day was bright but likewise

Cooler than the sunlight suggested,

With puffy cumulus first bunching

Then separating, tantalizing.

Even the trees and bushes tease.

One imagines the buds bursting

Into the sunlight, only to be

Disappointed on closer inspection.

Soon, but not yet.

 

Spring Sky

Spring has come;

There are buds on the lilacs

The sun no longer is its weak

Winter self.

But the sky, the sky

This spring night

Harkens back to the winter.

Cold air gives a sharpness

The scarcity of clouds

An open vista

To thousands, nay, millions

Of tiny twinkling pinpricks.