opens eyes to sweep
tilling fields of the planting season.
The spring might tease the mind.
watching the snows unwind.
Bicycles wish melt rubber on the asphalt,
smells of pollen, fresh release
puddles and rain tapped sills
the songs return,
a challenging season.
watching tree limbs come to life again
buds waiting for a mist, a shower,
the nitrogen of a lightning storm,
long hard winter behind.
Imagine a hot horizon ahead
where skin will choose a bronze
beyond the pale shadows of a chilly memory.
while we wander in grand scheme our mind.
© Thom Amundsen 3/2022