Humming Up the Road

Gray skies and gray mood--
Which came first? I think I know:
A dear dream has crashed.

 

Forsythia shines;
Birds continue to flutter--
They pick seeds and go.

 

 Faint whiff of green grass
And I am walking to school
So long, long  ago.

 

Trunk full of machines;
Woodstock Highway Department,
A magician's chest.

 

Back and forth it goes,
Forcing the dark tar downwards,
Patching up the road.

 

There's no more silence;
Trucks and machines reign throughout--
Yerry Hill Spring Clean!

 

 The first daffodils
Poke their trumpet head stems
Into gray morning.

 

    

Humming up the road--
Not the voice of a singer
But blowing machine.