19 is a big number this year.
19 is on our lips.
The likes of which unseen for the last century.
Yes, the Equinox on the 19th of March.
The earliest in 123 years.
Spring rolls in. Robins and grackles and the tops of tulips.
Nature doesn’t give a fig about the number 19.
Whatever it represents.
Noni among the flowers
How I love the snow.
As Spring returns
As she is wont,
I’m sad to see it go.
Then “O! What’s this?”
Birds in red and yellow and blue!
And reaching up from Earth,
Crocuses in every hue!
For months the color only of pines,
Now returning to this yard of mine,
And in the trees it can be seen.
Tractors battle mud in fields
To carve the furrows
Rich and dark,
A sooner start for better yields.
Eagles nest. Osprey, too.
Foxes bare their kits in dens.
Skunks stretch from their winter’s sleep,
To join else other denizens.
In a month the sky will glow,
To warm and copper-tone my skin.
I will be chagrined to part
With this sweet Spring I’ve come to know.