Wednesday, March 23, 2011

In the Spring

In the morning birds and squirrels quarrel
A hum hangs in the air as growing grass is trimmed
Children run, ride skip; wild in the street
Knees are dark and damp
Hands are sore from working the soil
Legs and arms ache after raking and sweeping away
Last Falls remembrance

Sweaty and dirty, but satisfied, true beauty shines
Yards are once again orderly and embellished with color
The fresh greens were merely a canvas
The children have run home, their stomachs calling
Birds sing amiably cheering on the success of the day
and the bountiful, fruitful rewards we will reap

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