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
