The First Day Of Spring

         On this one-year anniversary I pause to reflect.

         My healed right fibula, weight-bearing, cast-free, solid, set.

         

         Today's ramble melodious with plink, plonk, plink, plonk, splat.

         Icicles shape-shifting, beating a farewell rat-a-tat.

         

         Ahead is a plump puddle, sprawled, glistening in the sun.

          My boots beat a tattoo, splash, splop, splash, splop, slurp; oh what fun.

         

         I raise my winter weary face to accept a caress.

          Happenstance a warm March day, no gale, no flakes, no duress.

         

         Mercurius March swivels, swoops, grey clouds darken the sky.

         Furious, stinging snowflakes swirl, one more fierce blizzard. Why?

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