Somewhat Spring

It's the way the air smells in spring
That makes it seem so familiar,
Like coming home.

Daffodils surreal and unapologetic
Burst from otherwise barren earth
To lavish in the sanctity of sunlight,
While I count the days I've wasted
Between this season and the last.
My tulips will not return,
My hands breed failure,

My daughter likes the dandelions.
She never calls them weeds,
But Daddy will teach her
How to sort the good ones out.

It's the way beauty wakes one petal at a time
That makes spring seem so painful,
And leaves a quiet ache of all I'll never be
Growing and blooming inside of me.