Spring is very shyly emerging this year. Here’s a poem from my new book, Memories of When We Were Birds, to coax her onward.
Come to me in spring, my love,
with flowers in your hair,
Come to me all dressed in white
with your white shoulders bare,
Come to me, my dogwood blossom,
prettiest girl of spring,
Come to me and take my hand
and wear my golden ring.