Sunday, April 2, 2017

off we go

The deer are here!
A whole herd I see,
browsing through grass.
Wait—I’ve nattered on before
                                          about that.

The river’s risen!
All melting snow, not too much rain.
We watch it flow.
But that you know.

Birds flit and fly,
crows raise a ruckus.
The air feels alive,
same old jive.

Spring in its glory,
mud, bud and dead grass.
Nothing too gory.
But you know the story.

Life springs from death,
on and on it goes.
When we’ll be back,
nobody knows.