Springy

The balmy day has given way to a cool evening. The pale white moon gradually brightens to vanilla as the sky darkens. Soon the stars will emerge. All afternoon the breezes set the new leaves rustling, but now the air is still. The frogs are already croaking, and the last squawks of the woodpeckers have died away. Sliding the window closed I take a last sniff of the cooling air and am rewarded with a sneeze. Ah, the plants are releasing their pollen again.

All those lovely flowers vanishing into the night impose a heavy tax on the pleasure this loveliest of seasons brings. So do the burgeoning weeds, and it won't be long before the pines will be spewing their yellow dust over everything. But I'll sneeze my way through April gladly. The icy nights have gone, and the sultry days are not yet here. I'll sacrifice a few boxes of tissues to Persephone if I must. She is married to Hades after all, and the devil must have his due.


( Sunday Verse )