Signs of Spring
This Monday in March,
I searched for evidence.
A comforting reassurance hidden behind turbulent clouds.
The garden fairies were sure to be shivering,
But the sound of tiny wings fluttered above.
Their voices subdued,
as if humbled by the weather.
Perhaps working overtime and exhausted,
canvases sodden with months of rain,
they hide in the wild clover.
Stitching petals in the overgrowth,
behind evergreens and tall grass,
on the other side of the gazebo,
they create the magic.
I noticed small hints.
Wee colorful scraps,
akin to short pieces of yarn,
swept into the dustpan after crafting.
They popped out near the rosemary.
Tiny bouquets of pink,
a single African daisy.
Each a smile bursting from the soil;
The promised harbingers of Spring.
here in my garden.