Thank god it’s March, thank god it’s raining,
The water gnawing the last crusts of snow
In the yard where a lone crocus parts its lips.
Just days now until a chorus of color
Will welcome you back, the cold
Ground greening to meet you and
Pansies blinking up from the mulch.
*
Yesterday I woke to find the branch tips
Lit with green and purple flames.
Earlier each day now the window frames
The dawn. I see your face in every square
Of the calendar the sun pins to the floor.
I’m baking bread with flour from last year’s wheat.
I washed your favorite sheets and filled
Your room with hothouse tulips.
*
I know you’ll come, but when?
A late frost mocks the sparks
of my insatiable impatience.
*
Soon enough the irises will don
Their ballgowns underneath the elm.
Soon enough the hyacinths
will quiver clustered bells.
Inevitable angel, hasten home.
*
Spring after spring after spring
The frogs outsmart the underworld.
Evenings on the screened-in porch
I hold my breath and listen for their song.