Did you watch the race today?
Did you cheer for that banal, relentless bush canoodling every last sunbeam before the cold front rumbled in this evening?
Did you whistle along to the joyful jam intoned by birds all over the country, encouraging this nondescript hero who invariably says no to greeting the first day of spring looking drab?
Wasn’t it great?!
Hello, Yellow!
Congratulations, Forsythia! Forever fast and fabulous.
Happy First Day of Spring!!!
This poem is dedicated to my beautiful Mama, who is celebrating her 87th birthday today!
