by Kevin T McEneaney
When scent of lilacs lilt in Spring air,
it’s time to retrieve pick-ax, spade, and hoe
to plant various seeds, tubers, and bushes.
Working in mellow drizzle of droplets
one feels a deep, mysterious kinship
with dark, loaming dirt beneath one’s fingers.
Scent of magnolia, pear, apple blossom
ride cool air in wafting currents, moments
that tickle memory of childhood years,
recalling intense anticipation,
communion with damp earth that black ants own.
The bursting buds of maple, oak, and birch
trumpet that renewal of life and joy:
clouds vanish disclosing dazzling, deep blue!
