My first thoughts of Spring
came on a Sunday
when the heavy storm clouds
were broken by a blue
I hadn’t seen in days.
A blue which could relinquish
the sun’s grasp and continue to shine.
It was then I saw the knots
of green, eager to bloom
on the elder tree
even though the oaks are yet
to drop every russet leaf.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020
