Spring...on my street

Crimson branches heavy with cool drizzle
bend and touch wet grass tips, black cherries
of summer that will feed  berries and eager seeds
to golden wings and Cardinal newborns
bend in the breeze next to dogwood whites
and apple pinks. Golden forsythia finds
its early stage already beginning to fade
in the cacophony of color and birdsong

All along this island between two asphalt rivers, flowing
neighbor's cars and trucks; the remnants
of an ancient meadow still stand. Once the land
of noble tribes that lived far more in peace
with sun wind and rain, never sought to gain
control over things they could never own

Tulip poplars and Lilac stands, near Lavender
and Tulips, such comely additions, done by men;
show we have the wherewithal to blend lives
with the life of the ground.

Then, I watch a man sprinkle white poison to kill
the yellow-top Dandelions, that could be on his plate
or over his palate in a spicy wine, and he smiles
such a pleasant smile in front of his man-choking cars, SUV's
and noisy mower; a smile of satisfaction
as he kills my mood, the honey bees,
 and so much that nature gives

to bless us...