The Garden, Uncovered

When the cardinal called out –
his song like drops of light spilling over a dawn field –
I ran outside

that first day of his voice
as Spring’s soft sun
opened the heart of the brisk, grey winds

I ran to answer him
then stopped

at the tender, naked garden
suddenly uncovered:

after months of snow
the smell of earth
rising to meet the bird’s song.

and wakes in April

All winter the lawn has loafed
under its thick white quilt
and wakes in April, tousle-headed,
crusty-edged, and with the freshest shoots of weeds
curled cheekily in its damp, bare places.

Afternoon sun, a stiff rake,
and the layabout sits, chastened,
scrubbed and alert:
waiting to don a new green suit.