The First Blooms of Spring

A thick still grayness
Permeates the morning air.
Robin meditates.









The birds are frantic;
Chirps in many different tones;
Flights across the road.

Rake lies on the lawn,
Teeth filled with pine cones and leaves,
To tired to go on.

In the dark morning
Color bursts from the window--
A silent t.v.

Alien flecks of white
Decorate the dull brown woods--
"Design by Garbage."

Belle comes to greet me
Tail wagging, gifts in her mouth
To see, not to touch.







The first drop of rain
Falls softly like a phantom--
A teasing suspense.

Insistent white buds
Cluster on the dead brown leaves:
The first blooms of Spring.

The signs are leaning
Weighed down by their statistics.
Are all facts heavy?