dances

such a sun that warms
this musky earth
forces up my crocuses
with their purple plumes,
flaunting their dark
rich beauty while
smiling at the naked
blue skies that cover
the landscape –
a flannel blanket
stillness in the air
allows the heat to rise
from the empty
and quiet streets.
as if trapped within a prism,
those narrow glowing
streaks of light
highlight the tiny particles
of dust falling to earth
that my children
like to call “sleepy sand.”
walking along with light
steps, you can almost feel
the force of life that
awakens, rejuvenated,
and filled with
devilish spirit and sport
to dance around my still
sleeping dogwood – teasing.
taunting all to come,
you join the game
and skip barefoot on
the cool pale grasses
that too stretch their
dreamy arms upward with a yawn
to embrace the sun
of a young spring day.

– Previously published March 1992

crocus

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