maverick

These are dry messy spring days.
Wind throws last year's leaves
into all the corners of the yard;
tugs at the fingertips of haskap and ash
coaxing them out of winter's sleep.
Poplar gets ready to throw seeds
and stickies all around the yard.

Iris and tulip spears piercing through old growth
to begin again.
I look at all the dry, lifeless looking brown
and wonder
how things can spring to life and color.
And they always do.

Mystery of harsh prairie where
the earth bursts open when
the winter loosens its hold.
Spring clouds wander the skies like
maverick squadrons
throwing rain and wind and
occasional hail onto the
waking land
not ready to settle into warm or
soaking rain.