Icicles are poised
to stab, sharp as my lancets.
Our winter lingers.
Trees unfurl their leaves, green and rust.
The first flowers of spring punctuate the landscape with purple and gold.
Colors drop from the sky.
Tiny warblers leave their flock, staking out new territories.
Colors come in different sizes, ruby red hummers, cerulean blue warblers,
golden flickers and the rosy breasted grosbeak.
Brown goldfinches have shed their feathers for gold.
A lone turkey, separated from his flock,
joins the cardinals, redbirds at their brightest,
beneath our bird feeders.
The turkey pecks and busily scratches up the ground.
A squirrel takes a dirt bath in our garden,
the soil prepared to welcome rosemary and parsley.
My diabetes changes in May as well.
Insulin needs plunge downwards.
Turning the soil and planting the seeds,
walking golden dogs along the Maumee,
hiking the still muddy trails,
mean lows, almost welcome lows.
Spring brings the glory of pleasure after the weariness of winter.