A Walk After Winter

My neighborhood is bawdy with blossoms
Their blushes witness to

A soil-bound dawn
In the West Michigan 
Monotony of

Dim days

Choking for light

Persist

I hold a wild hope as I watch them awake.
Militaries of milkweed, platoons of plushy plantains,
Colonies of clover, dragoons of dandelions.
They invade, or rather, return 
to their lands too long choked with lawns.
Spreading out they shade soil, soak sunlight,
And waft a welcoming message 
to wandering, once-battalions of bees.

Sing a Spell in Gray Light

>

Wake with dawn and sing beloved one,
The gray light of March will bend to your voice
Yet. You know the spell, woven from
A true whisper, can endure through mists,
Unbroken by storms of impish men.