The blue has returned, a harbinger
of the next generation of robins,
the bold hydrangeas on the neighbor's bush
but that's all in the planning just now.
There is white snow and shreds of white cloud
the meltwater rushing over gravel
and everywhere a song: the wild laugh
of the woodpecker, the sigh of lovelorn
chickadees, the blackbirds' electric trill

Crocus by Jenne Micale