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Late Winter, Upstate New York
One might think
all color
had left this world,
moved to Florida, perhaps,
or was busy decorating
bikinis in the Bahamas.
Yet suddenly one sees:
the dog’s drenched
lime green
tennis ball,
plumped in the slush
of the winter birdbath.
Spring’s earliest green.
Gaze upon. Learn by heart.
Something alters.
Now the dog has lowered his head
and stanced his feet.
Ready, he says, and it seems to me
we have been ready
practically forever.
Patricia Coburn
Seattle
Back to Late Winter, Upstate New York
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