When Spring Comes Around

When spring comes around

tractor beams of sun
rub out winter white
the pitchfork turns
leaves molted a season ago;
all returned to humus
energy for the coming light.

Birds darken the sky,
replace blue with grey
and the lonesome cry
of gathering, and in branches
and under logs mossed velvet
life scurries awake,
erasing slumber.

There comes a day,

just one, when tree limbs
stretch to clouds, shake off
their grey and cerise buds
unfurl to peculiar yellow
green before fading
to drab, the burnt-out
monochrome of summer.



***
Prompt=fading.

And like this month of poeming, winter fades to spring, and soon, the heat of summer. Peace...