Everyone loves Spring.
I have a strongly-mixed feeling.
She is the kind of person I find
unaware that she can be unkind.
She is fickle as the winds blowing
from north and south and twisting
into storms of frozen heat and heated cold.
Spring laughs and dances so very bold
across garden landscapes and downed trees
she spreads dead tree buds on every breeze
to litter yards and and parking lots and streets,
with detritus that crunches beneath our feet.
Plants struggle to figure her out.
Do we stay hidden inside or come out?
We are never sure what Spring is about.
Weatherman are never sure what to say
except that it is a weather-warning day.
I tolerate her insistent hold on all forums,
her indecisive lack of decorum,
her frozen demeanor and winsome smiles.
We wonder what is next, all the while.
annarino writes 