First the daffodils.

Then the tulips.  Red, yellow, pink. 

Lettuce is crisping in the cool morning air.

The cucumber magnolia sends out tiny shoots at the end of each branch.

The sycamores will make a late grand entrance, but until then there are the oaks, hackberries, and redbuds getting back to business. 

The cedar and cyprus have held a green vigil through the dark death of winter, but now they catch the fever and dance a little perkier in the breeze. 

The pine will start new quills to write the lovesongs of robins and chickadees, bluejays and cardinals.

Lavender, oregano, and mint are suddenly alive again.  

Rosemary dresses up and puts on her perfume. 

Hyacinths are bursting blue.  


The wheel will turn and spring will

become summer

become fall

become winter.

          But today is spring,

And I am bursting blue.

One thought on “Springing

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