can’t tell the date
of spring. Look for a shy blade
of grass poking out of
the wet earth. See the buds

pop out on the branches
like a sneeze. Listen to a kite
as it ***** in the breeze. Hear
the children running to catch it

as it gets tangled
in the trees. Smell the pulpy
squeezed lemons from the girls
on the corner, the waft of

the burgers on the grill,
and the buns getting warmer. The robin
chick staging a dance as it tries
to fly. But all it can do is prance,

as the bunny hopping by. The crack
of the bat as it drops to
the ground. The clang of the bell
as the ice-cream truck turns around.