Spring
I do not need a ground hog to tell me
Spring has sprung. The signs of nature’s magic
Bring unsung songs I love; Listen! It’s free!
They must be sung! The birds in trees are quick
To sing these muted varied arrangements.
Their voices lost through winter’s frost sing now
Of coming Spring. The budding leaves present
Themselves as tiny bumps on mighty boughs.
The ground below where once the snow had veiled
The greenish carpet, has melt away and
Must give way to let the svelte blades hail.
Then March begins rebirth of meadow-lands.
I see and hear, yes! Smell and taste this spring
Feel it in my bones! I too want to sing!
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