Wild grasses and winter wheat
claim early victory
over earth and frost;
impulsively painting in emerald layers,
well before the last snow falls.
The cottonwoods—far wiser—
having weathered many a false spring,
show more restraint,
and await a more auspicious day.
On sun-warmed afternoons,
the impetuous grasses
mock the trees for their reluctance.
On frigid nights, the trees,
smug in their ancient wisdom,
pity the unsheltered, icicled grasses,
Somewhere between
grassy impulse
and wooded wisdom,
I find more joy in Spring’s arriving,
than in its lodging here.
Granolativity 