Au Printemps

Today in spite of March’s unrelenting cold

we sensed the bold investiture of green –

not so much seen – in fact, not seen at all –

as faintly heard inside: a warm triadic roll

and glide – a covert prelude to the call of pale

gold early Spring: whose tune and  tender beat

and light vibrato would insist on manifesting

soon. We caught a glimpse beneath

the clouds which shroud the evening moon

of half-formed creatures teaching one another

how to dance. Like something au printemps

they’d dream up in a fairy tale in France.

 

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