spring – Garden of Words

Cold Boston Spring Haiku

brilliant red tree buds
bobbing in the April wind
lift my spirits up

a half moon perches
in the sycamore’s branches
light blooms on the hills

incredible strength
and vulnerability
in the tulip bulbs

white cherry blossoms
before a broken tree —
winter’s distant artifact

sun through bare branches
first time on the wooded path
treetops blushing red

over the meadow
still short and barren, sun shines
on the wild onions

april, the snow farm
still boasts mountains ten feet high
will they ever melt?

as the snow recedes
who will clean up all the dirt?
will the rains do it?

just one patch of ice
where the whole pond was frozen
and even that’s thin

the snow in the woods
keeps me on the sidewalk
but the birds are back