After a winter suspension
my morning walks resume
and the ravine is just waking up
Tree limbs are still just black webs against the sky
Broken and sawed off trunks are scattered like dinosaur bones
Newborn bush petals float in pale green and yellow clouds
of mist across the slopes
Bleached brown survivors who refused to fall
hang like abandoned laundry on branches
bravely standing out until they are overwhelmed
by the coming Spring clothing
Discrete spiked explosions of green
shoot through the blanket of dead leaves
Recent rains have the creek
loudly rushing over shale steps
falling into pools of bubbly froth
A lone emerald head white collar duck
sits in the swamp
Waiting at the end of my walk
is an orphaned kitten
I will begin to love
