The day yawns clear and blue with
but a few fluffs of cloud trickling
the distant sky, inviting us to wander
trails in a forest settled most
comfortably into a late spring
that truly was late arriving.

Finally, the creek which had
been compelled by never-ceasing
cold rains to industriously
drive fallen detritus from winter
excess and the fall preceding
has paused to a turbid trickle.

Water striders frantically skate
its surface, caddisfly larvae conceal
themselves in its clay-wet banks
within their purloined homes, and
sun-streaked slashes of iridescent
blues, greens, reds and gold dragonflies
play arabesques on the gliding breeze.

At the trail, blooming bedding grasses
send their aromatic pear essence
into the wind. Among the fleabane
the daisies and the clambering cowvetch,
cinquefoil's pale yellow five-petalled
flowers gently prevail. Goldfinches
seek one another out within the cool,
green haven of surrounding hemlock.