On This Spring Day

It is, this most pleasant of days,
a gentle wind that ruffles the
new green leaves festooning
spring trees. There are mayflies
and butterflies, newly emerged
to take up their spring-time role
in this annual re-acquaintance.

This day of mellowed atmosphere
now clear, now cloudy, but nicely
normalizing beyond the wintry
resurgence of a mere few days
earlier, has brought comfort to
all living things in nature's purview.

A pee-wee sheltered in a tree
calls himself time and yet melodious
time again. The forest paths, so
latterly dusted with snow from
flurries that raged under a bitter
wind, now appear bright orange,
well littered by fallen pine needles
representing nature's disposal
of the old, making way for the new.

A hawk shrieks, its sharp hunting
cries punctuating the calm, still
of the day. The woodland bracken
quickens, hawkweed begin to raise
their orange heads. Dogwood have
matured their floral panicles.
Dog-tooth violets on the wane,
yet trilliums flag their defiance and
Jacks still furtively claim presence.