memento vivere

easter morning came fair,

warm, not hot, sunny after days of rain.

happy heathens, we nonetheless 

planned a good dinner,

put a good bottle in to cool.

cooking prep done, i sat on the porch

and ate a mango

for once not reading nor scrolling while i ate,

simply enjoying the soft air,

the scent of hyacinths in bloom,

bars of birdsong.

i watched a sparrow in a forsythia bush.

i ate my mango with attentive relish,

admiring its vivid yellow that flirts with orange,

its fragrant sweetness, 

the softness of it in the teeth.

i thought of the long hibernation 

of the year past, 

everyone at home but not At Home,

felt the soreness of my post-vaccination arm,

one down, one to go, nearly there.

i thought how near a thing death is,

no matter what pretty hedges we plant before it.

a faint springtime smell of earth drifted up

as i watched a worm make his slow way

across a paving stone, 

then diving into soil as i would water.

mango, hyacinth, forsythia, 

worm, sun, song, sparrow---

i paid attention to you today, and i thank you all.

spring dallies and may leave in a rush,

hurtling through bud--bloom--leaf so fast

(blink and you will miss it)

much as we all do, unspooling from our births.

and i am not blinking so much today;

tutored by fruit and flowers, 

i have remembered that i live.