Greening Days

In the season when morning sidewalks ambush slippery shoes
geese honk the miles as they wing back winter air.
Windshields surrender their frost to dew.
Snow retreats to curbs and hedges

as the sun clouds the trees with buds.
The red spot on the blackbird’s wing blooms.
Dove song courts the evening.
Madness returns to the moon.

These are the greening days—
hard ground sunned into soil,
old oaks putting on crowns,
lovers blossoming into fragrance.


—Eric Nelson