Today I notice colors in the stones
That shine a darker hue when puddled, wet,
I see the dripping twigs, their budding bones
Dip under weight of chickadees, well-met.
I notice sidewalk cracks, distinguishing
Their grayness from the worms who slowly twist,
Cloud sponges soak in dishwater, then wring
Upon the world a melancholy mist.
Today I notice springtime in the smells
Of air and rain and every budding tree,
The sidewalk is a storybook that tells
The nature of all nature wordlessly.
Today I notice color, smooth and curled,
In this refreshing, gray-scaled, dripping world.

















