The spirit of spring
has asserted itself.

The splendid canopy of summer
is now our striving up-and-comer,
rising up to reach as high
as this good year
will ever swell.

Sun climbs,
blooms of alls sorts
on grasses, bushes,
trees and vines,
the arbor trellis arching over,
the dandelions and the clover,
which anyone who really looks
can see and tell.

But storms of snow
still deck the peaks,
atop the bumps
and gully-creeks
that stream
a subtle gurgling flow
with a faint hint
of undertow,

leaving those who reach such heights
to squint ‘gainst glare,
pump hearts with blood,
and lungs, with air,

and leaving them,
to the degree they’ve reveled
in the wonder
of everything around
that’s out there,
with an incomparably
bright and happy
outer-inner afterglow.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Spring, Summer and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s