Spring

The springtime wetland
Chorus comes alive at dusk
As the peep frogs sing

From the sheer cliff face
An eager seedling rises
Grasping at the sun

Dark flowers bloom as
Small drops of rain release the
Incense of the earth

In the lone white oak
A solitary squirrel
Calls out for its mate

a box turtle’s shell
barely breaking the surface
gently making waves

The cold winter breeze
Whispers empty promises
Of the coming spring

Wafting on the breeze
There comes the gentle scent of
A lilac in bloom

A humid spring day
Sudden rain soaks the asphalt
And leaves it steaming

Crowns of barren trees
Dipped in the gold of sunrise
Turn to burnished bronze

Driving, lost in thought.
Brought back to earth by the smell
of freshly cut grass.