Tuesday, April 4, 2017


the trees are waiting to exhale
but color is slow to trickle into
their branch tips, into their skin
they are tentative to awake from sleep

their patchy shade does keep
the glade of daffodils in bloom
a whimsical, tiny forest
to which the sun drops have given way

and the geese have gone away
it was their unavoidable song
that prompted you to pause
called you to look Above

but now the dawn chorus of
robin, blue tit, and chaffinch
prompts you to look without
but also within

and now that the fruit-tree blossoms begin
their pedals soon dashed by the wind
making your walking route
decorated in nature’s confetti

you’re unsure that you’re ready
for the look within
for the awake from sleep
for the exhale