On February 28th the sky
was spanking blue, the streets were wind-swept clean.
No matter where I looked it charmed my eye
with evidence of budding growth. The scene
was absolutely vernal. I declared
that spring was here, regardless of the date,
and no co-worker argued. No one cared
to quibble – it was too nice to debate.

As if to second prematurity,
I woke the 1st of March to ringing notes
of birdsong. Greeting dawn for all it’s worth,
ecstatic robins serenade their glee,
and then the crows and sparrows cast their votes,
as spring invades this corner of the earth.