Spring Fog

Not a square inch of blue
in today’s fog. You might
call it a blanket, but that
is so over done.
And it’s
too thick to call it a sheet.

Besides, bed metaphors say
the day is sleepy,
and it is not.
It’s just gray
and wide awake.
Me, I’m sleepy in
mid-day.

I sit near the bubbly
fountain and listen to
falling water sing
yesterday’s song.

The hummingbird
atop the pear tree
understands
spring’s continuous presence.

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