Drea Art
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Late Spring
By Mary Oliver

 

Finally the world is beginning

to change, its fevers mounting,

its leaves unfolding.

 

And the mockingbirds find

ample reason and breath to fashion

new songs. They do. You can

count on it.

 

As for lovers, they are discovering

new ways to love. Listen, their windows are open.

You can hear them laughing.

 

Without spring who knows what would happen.

A lot of nothing, I suppose.

The leaves are all in motion now

the way a young boy rows and rows

 

in his wooden boat, just to get anywhere.

Late, late, but now lovely and lovelier.

And the two of us, together – a part of it.