week 500 ~ old lady trees in their youthful dresses

old lady trees in their youthful dresses
pink and fluttery you can almost hear
them laughing at their brief finery as
errant blossoms blown loose scatter clear
the fences float high on a lazy breeze
before falling to carpet the sidewalk
once a year lovely we wait for the trees
to convince us that warmth is more than talk
that the exploding newness of color
has grabbed momentum that seasons have turned
pulling us outdoors where new life will stir
pushing forth green shoots whose names we’ve not learned
yet beyond the fierce cold of winter past
we stand taller breathe freer spring at last