Spring
/The geese have flown north.
Tiny green shoots peek through dry leaves.
Empty pots call to me from the patio.
I admire the bed of hopeful mulch.
Spring lifts my heart.
You write it: What does spring do for you?
The geese have flown north.
Tiny green shoots peek through dry leaves.
Empty pots call to me from the patio.
I admire the bed of hopeful mulch.
Spring lifts my heart.
You write it: What does spring do for you?