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SUSSURATIONS

Now is that node of year when out the night window are new constellations, when tomorrow promises more than today, when in the day the sun seems warmer and the trees stand straighter, when the knife-edge of cold has dulled and you're wearing one layer too many, when you'd rather walk and take deep breaths than ride, when the joy is bigger than the chore, in an air spiced with a new bit of savory moisture, when any snow that falls is only another whisper of winter's farewell, when you need less firewood, when new birds arrive to try out the old melodies and the farmers come kicking at their newly dark soil with summer on their faces, when certain musky fragrances begin to waft upon the air as from ancient eroticisms of earth and sky, when any day now the offspring will begin to emerge in the shyness that beautifies all new eternity, and there's a fresh sparkle in every eye at the brand-new sameness there is everywhere...