The first hints of spring

There's a mockingbird out my window, twittered rambling

a cornflower sky, the remnants of snow melting into a memory

dark red buds on the trees timidly reaching toward the morning sun

I can feel Spring trying to burst through Her Old Foe, Winter

as the ice cracks on the Charles, small continents of ice returning to the Harbor

like the tapping of a hard boiled egg against the counter, the shell giving way

like the tapping of a spoon against the crackled coating of a creme brulee

breaking through to the sweetness within

I feel a buzzing in my soul

knowing Spring and I will meet again

in just eighteen days.



Photo by Keiko Zoll