Well, you're in a good mood.
Those friends left and right
could learn a few things,
how not to whine as a kettle
until I notice the gold body,
black pearls for eyes.

To me it's a forest,
first breath of March,
winter locked up
and now leaves bleed green,
snow switched to slush.

Who wants to be raucous,
get sloshed, go hoarse,
slur every word?
With you each syllable
twirls through the air,
hopscotches from note to note.

We may cough/choke/sneeze,
as the curtain rises
but when you choose to speak
spring skips to my ears
regardless what month.