Subtly now, spring’s colors deepen.
From her limitless palette, she dips
her brush into crimsons and burgundies,
into scarlets and golds. Her creations
grow more elaborate and complex.
Her flowers yield the first small signs
of vegetables and fruits. The air,
perfumed still with lilacs, takes on hints
of roses and cut lawns. Days of rain
give way to long stretches of sunshine.
From the country roads, dust rises
in clouds in the wake of passing cars.
In the tall lush grass of the pastures
goats and calves and colts and lambs
leave their babyhood behind and move
with a new independence as they graze.
But, as if to remind us that she still remains,
her mornings come wrapped in birdsong
and fog, and violets still sparkle in the dew.
This song is spring’s overture for summer.
and the curtain is slowly beginning to rise.