Pathetic fallacy requires storm
or quake, or morning overcast at least,
but we are budding, sunny, fragrant, warm.
The avian concertos have increased,
and hummingbirds are making daily feast
on spears of nascent color in the yard.
Wisteria is soft, but this is hard:
remembering it’s dangerous to kiss,
to wear the mask, and socialize on guard,
and hope that spring’s the sweetest thing we miss.