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.