The sun is pleased
To see the lilacs in bloom again
But I, who love them as well
Hardly ever notice them
Until their perfume
Fills my nostrils.
What is wrong with you?
Spring is finally here
And all you can do is b*tch
About the black flies
And the mud in your boot treads.
In the winter I feed the birds
Because I feel sorry for them
But in the late spring
I am still feeding them
Because I am sorry for myself.
The forest is just beginning to leaf.
Plum blossoms cover my car.
Birch trees are swaying
Like skeletons dancing
In the warm sunlight.
When I look closely
Into a violet
I see a group of delicate veins
That resembles a stand
Of young trees in a glade.
The UPS man is honking.
He honks as he approaches
He honks after he leaves the package
And he honks as he drives away.
I imagine that he is happy
But I wish he would be quiet.
The potted flowers on the sill
Were so special
When they were blossoming
In February.
Now they look like tired children
On a schoolbus, tolerating
The long ride home.
