Avril

Spring has arrived, and I, too,
am bursting into bloom. But not in the way that a tulip opens up to receive the sun,
eager, stretching, face pointed upwards,
lighting up walkways, resplendent with color

But rather in the way that grass forces itself from the impossibly tight
cracks of concrete sidewalks, bent and brown,
trampled, drying,
stiff,

dying

to catch a glimpse of something new.