National Poetry Month starts today

Spring

after the grey and the brown

the bud of green and white appear

we’ve lived long enough to know

that yellow and pink have a fragrance

of laughter, shouts, whispers

and since we’re assigning colors

memory paints the past in purple

some like scars that mock their origin by fading to white

others glowing like the hint of orange-purple dawn

that rises behind the bones of the tree line

day after day, slowly brightening

to the palest of blue framed in white

yes, spring is when true light changes its stance

serves up mornings illuminated in egg wash

spider webs and new grass alike glisten in cold air

the cat wants out early but brings back only wet paws

the body won’t let us roll over and miss a morning like this

funny how the body knows what to remember and what to forget

— April 1, 2013