Spring Has Come Early (to the footbridge over the stream above the beaver pond)

Spring has come early
to the footbridge
over the stream
above the beaver pond

and the smart money
is on the crane pair
returning to the meadow
before the equinox.

We always wish for
early spring in March
and early winter in November,
craving what we miss,

sun or snow. If only
we could take each day
as it comes, as dogs do,
as we assume the cranes do,

but who’s to say they don’t
dream of northern meadows
when they tire of their winter
homes? I imagine they long

to trace the flyways
back to their nesting grounds
and those long and lazy days,
gigging frogs and raising their colts.

(Even this poem feels incomplete,
leaves me wanting to see more,
like a blue sky reflected in the
clear and icy water of the stream.)

spring

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Published by

Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner

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