Springing Green

 

Springing Green

 

Sap is rising:

Cut me and I’ll bleed green.

From the short sharp movements

Of winter’s economy, I move

Into languor and the lazier

Dance of spring.

Slow swaying hips

And wide striding legs,

I eat up the miles

Feet skimming the ground

Head in the clouds

(such as they are today)

And my eyes on the rising tide

Of butterflies and bumblebees

That have emerged from slumber

To mate, to forage and to live anew.

Cut me, and I’ll surely bleed green today.

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