precocious blossoms appear
gold within violet, reaching
or an exuberant chorus
of little blue faces

a plant with fiery red berries
and yellow-orange leaves
among its greenery
sets the scene ablaze

faithful garden gnomes
still keep watch
looking worn and tired
from the winter

a tiny orange shrub
alone in someone's front lawn
defiantly bestows
its gift of color

a robin fluffs her feathers
on a comfortable branch
while a lady hawk soars above
and cries out

wind makes urgent ripples
on the surface of the stream
amid vibrant green tufts
early adopters of spring

bare sycamore limbs
stark against the ice-blue sky
perform a spare pantomime
of the verdant dance to come

some trees hold on tenaciously
to last year's leaves or blossoms
now turned dark
a reminder of winter’s despair

others are evergreen
reminding us that while
change is nature's rule
there are still steadfast things

It’s been too long
since I’ve been back
to Baltimore.

Twice a year,
spring and fall,
I made my pilgrimage there
to meet my friends
and listen
together with them.

This April,
we did not travel,
so I woke up this morning
with my body yearning
for spring by the harbor
in Baltimore.

during this spring
of social distancing
i’m walking a lot

giving folks
a wide berth
and a smile

i’ve noticed lots of
encouraging chalk messages
on paths and sidewalks

with quotes
from Maya Angelou
and Mr. Rogers

this crisis
is making me think
about the paradox

that walking alone
can be the same as
walking together