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