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bud bloom

i feel mildly incensed

when i find someone’s

locked my window

and i have to get up —

all the way out of bed! —

shuffling my feet an

inch-long mile

and tugging at the sash

to let night noise in

spring takes me by surprise

the wintertime long

i cultivate it in my mind

picturing tiny vine tendrils

and delicate buds

it creeps on, like a mist

then its bright calamity arrives

before my mind’s been fully

sun-warmed and soil-tuned

what lavish finery the earth wears

in unexpected revolt against winter

the parrot hues of tulips nodding roundly

flowers bursting from the life-blood sap

all the world’s at riotous play

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