Viral Gratitude ~ 4.1.20

An oldie-but-goodie poem for the first day of April:



So much waiting to be born.
Blackberries not yet on the

bramble path, much less so
sweetening tarts and tongues.

Spring peepers chippering
moonlight–oh what a wonder to

be the pond that enjoys such a
buxom chorus. Sap waiting to

rise in rabbits and wolves–
their winter stains bled and shed

for the next generation’s fur
and teeth. Wood violets and dandelion

laboring earth and leaf debris
no less faithful the insects and

breezes that scatter their seeds
and gaiety. Wide vees of geese

to unzipper sky of cloud and fog,
percussing wings and wills of

summer grazing across fields,
streams and highways. Green,

pink and yellow ready to stir
north into tulips, roses and corn.

Yeast with water and wheat
rebirthing warm and

wrinkled hands–rises and yields.
Rises and yields. The soft dough

braiding Spring into Easter bread,
Babka and Challah.


ag ~ 2017

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