Stacy Ann Link

The sunlight whispers Spring,
who tiptoes on the moss
trailing yards and yards of tulle
wafting the fragrance of warming earth
drizzling snow-melt
on her garland tresses
heavy with buds.

The sunlight whispers Spring,
who threads green blades
piercing acre after acre of meadow
billowing misty motes
and sparkling pollen
on her blossom cheeks
coloring with roses.

The sunlight whispers Spring,
who whirls freshening air
quickening flock and flock
singing a song of returning
and nesting
in the arms of her trees
opening with life.