Spring Gets Bold
Spring shifts a bright sky
into streaks of gray,
in it's own unpredictable way.
The daffodils are weakening
storm damaged, they struggle
to blow their leaky yellow trumpets.
Warm days still end with a chill
the dawn remains wet nosed,
but summer is winning
it is edging in
painting the fields
with patchwork colors,
daubing the trees with
shy May blossoms
that offset the ever greening.
An old man in a black overcoat
sweats a little,
his dog racing ahead;
he heads for home
with a rickety swagger,
already painting
bold, eye-catching words
on invisible rainbows.
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