With
swirling ink
and rolling metal point
I shall feign a look at spring
just to fool that frozen meadow
in my winter weary mind
just to force a little color
on these drab grey feelings
and overlay these cold barren
thoughts
with a premonition of April.
Mark
how the daffodils
unfold to face their yellow god
worshipping his every move
across a brilliant cerulean
sky.
See how the hummingbirds fight
for the right to lick
at those scarlet larkspurs.
Notice the orb webbed spider
spinning her snare
resting only when she's done
as that fritillary dances
a dangerous tango with
a benevolent breeze.
Those columbines
are they laughing
at that fat bumblebee
too big to land on their petals?
And can't those cherry blossoms
stay longer on the tree
before they dress the blushing
grass
in a soft negligee pink?
Oh...
it's raining again.
Well, let it pour.
I hear now
a meadowlark singing!