The Essence of Spring

The newness in the air,
Brushes my cheek,
With a sense of warmth.
Something has begun.
See it in the birds?
Goldfinches claim their gold,
And courtship begins,
Through song and dance.
The hard brown earth,
Slowly yields,
To random bursts,
Of varied hue.
Thoughts turn,
To days gone by,
Baseball, lemonade,
And first love.
A timid kiss,
A bashful touch,
And that song that rekindles,
The essence of spring.


Nel Babitzke