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.
