mai.

A gentle mist soothes the soil
after a harsh winter’s ravishment.
We shrug off our heavy hats and scarves,
matching accessories to drab winter grays,
for something more lithe, sleek.
Spring accumulates into larger droplets,
fat and full, never missing my face,
fogging my horn-rimmed glasses.
I whisper a prayer of thanksgiving,
grateful for multi-colored perennials
and waking to the roar of the mighty lawn mower.
Windows sneak open, a tender breeze
inhales and exhales through the screen.
April has vanished and May has come.