dogtrax

Straddling seasons like a kid on a see-saw; the Spring equinox

A spring-time snow squall drops white on green, as flowers fold in on themselves

A mad rush at dusk, the swallows never stop to sing with dinner, flying

Sending a message to Spring, the crocus will sing colorful glory

A breeze so gusty, it pulls the pants off the man standing as scarecrow

Maybe it's not here - not in this time or this place; still, it's worth the search

A full moon's shadow skirting along the treetops as we watch below

An azalea before bloom: a skeleton shaped in twisted sticks

Spring is a painting, dabbed at first, with green; then, flowers follow

A spade, a shovel, a bucket of soil, some seeds; Till the land for Spring