Vicissitudes of Spring

Raindrops sprinkle spent dogwood petals on the lawn While tiny bluebirds perch in nearby mulberry, stalling, Awaiting the drizzle’s end, fussing at a week-old fawn Who grazes unaware sharp crystal droplets are falling, Raining down like tiny sharp fragments of shrapnel. Afternoon planting, too, must wait ‘til morrow’s dawning Lest fragile seedlings, soaked through, hear death’s knell, Rotting from the roots, fall over, their life withdrawing The vicissitudes of spring promise both life and death: The mingling of joy and sorrow, reflected in nature here On my lawn, in my garden; mirroring life’s fragile breath, Proper Mother Nature making her message indelibly clear. Ranked 54th in Poetry Soup's 100 Top Poems