Spring surprised me this year. Don’t know why. Guess I’ve been too busy. All of a sudden a few weeks ago, my yard burst into blossoms. This weekend I am finally having a moment to look out the window, something I should do more often. The colors of green are like a green rainbow, colors I could not recreate on a paint palate. As spring was happening, I wrote two rather quick poems. They were quick like the spring to me. The first is a prose stream of consciousness, the second I stole lines and form from one of my favorite poets, Billy Collins. I hope you enjoy my musings over spring.
Spring Happens
It is here; spring happens, ready or not, car washes on every corner, growing crowds at the baseball fields, everyone walks their dogs in the park, go for a ride with the top down, hear the birds chirp-chitter-chatter, smell the flowers blooming; azaleas, bridal wreath, wisteria, sweet olive, and I didn’t have to plant a thing or weed or trim, they just came like bursts of fireworks on the Fourth of July, lighting up my world, surprising me when I raise the blinds. Spring happens, no preparation, no wait-a-minute, here it is…wake up!
Burst into Spring
**After Billy Collins, Today
If ever there was a spring day so perfect,
so stirred up by a cool crisp wind
that you wanted to breathe more often
to taste the wisteria blossoms,
and throw open all the doors,
lift them clear off the hinges,
a day so bright the pink azaleas
pop open like a birthday balloon bouquet,
seemed so delightful that you felt like
running naked among them,
released from all inhibitions taking flight
outstretched arms playing airplane,
so you could fly on steady wings
balanced for lift and drinking nectar,
yes, you can imagine it,
today is just that kind of day.
Reflections on the Teche 
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