by Heather Ford-Helgeson
A fortunate
we
who live among
seasons,
where spring arrives
to a
sold-out stadium
filled in anticipation
of its
performance.
Dappled sun through new leaves
and puddles slop over curbs
dry up
and leave mud
caked
and smelling
like
something old and new
all at once.
Birdsongs change from
caws only
to
cardinals courting
and robins
joyous in finding
fat
worms.
Grass greens within
seeming
moments
and toes
too bloom
from boots into
damp earth and
soft blades.
The sun finds
its stride
and its
heat
finally
hits
in force
and every bit
of exposed skin
tingles and
revels and
reveals
life
is
in
every
cell.
