SPRING
by Carol Marcy
Spring is playing her usual game of hard to get.
She’s begun to put on a few fancy clothes
fringed by yellow daffodil ruffles.
She flirts with sun filled bright blue days
but Winter says, “Oh no such luck!”
and tugs her back with chilly winds,
clouds and more rain.
“No thoughts of celebration yet for you.”
Peepers pretend she’s already here
drowning out her fickleness
with loud courting songs that fill the air.
The birds completely ignore
her wavering commitment
too busy flirting,
singing sweet notes of enticement
while charting out their territories.
I just want to be warm.
The wood stove fire burns bright,
heavy blankets piled one on top of the other
weigh me down into deep dreams.
Layers of sweaters and warm jackets
remind me to go slow
enjoy the still quiet days
not yet filled with outside chores.
There’s time to read,
write some poems,
paint a watercolor or two.
I need to bundle up,
take some nice long slow woods walks,
breath in the fresh cool air,
enjoy early spring surprises
like pretty little purple Heal-All flowers
peeking out from clumps of grass still asleep.
Nature certainly doesn’t need me to push Her along.
Spring honors the pace she needs
to manifest with love all of the beauty that will follow.
