Spring

Spring Poem

I need a poem for spring

I check my chapbook—the one I wrote

two years ago.

I look under my bed;

wander through the house,

searching.

And through each window

the rising sun peeks.

It’s out there—I know it—spring.

Pungent daffodils such bright

yellow you expect them to

rub off on your hands

Soft pink blossom sea

against robin egg blue sky

chirping birds

just beyond sight

silly gray squirrel still

trying to find last fall’s nuts,

upturning newly sprouted

radishes in the process.

Somehow this acrid brown coffee

in my hands seems out of

season—too much winter

“Out!” she calls

“Mow the grass, take a walk,

smell the air of a new season

dig in the dirt

spring is here

Come out

Come out!”

(This is not necessarily the final copy, if anyone has any suggestions…)