Trumpets of Springtiime

Walk of April 9, 2017

My blue crocuses

Have poked their heads up last night.

I didn't ask them to.

Important question:

How many pounds of bird shit

Come from my feeder?

Lying on the ground

From an alien space ship:

Paraphernalia.

Mabel is hoarser

As she's getting old and gray;

Just like all of us.

Light from the lantern

Through the shadow on the ground.

(What's shining on what?)

Forest is singing

Jubilant songs for the dead

On this warm Spring morn.

Looming in water

Reflections of the old shack.

Portrait in chartreuse.

Sunday gunshots pop--

Sportsman's club shoot at something;

Old boys with their toys.

First dandelions
Sprinkled on ground like sundrops;
Trumpets of springtime.