Ode to Spring byYash Seyedbagheri

 Ode To Spring

blossoms burst white

lawnmowers whir, a sound wafting through windows

a gentle buzz as lengthy days

turn into late evening,

 

and many a night, rain whispers on the rooftops

and plops in puddles blurred by

butter-colored streetlamps

gone are the fragments of ice

 

the falls

the piecing together of things

the drying of tears

there’s a spring in my step

 

lengthening

over long blocks and hills

but I don’t want to go too fast

summer sun comes too soon