The rabid stipple of
squirrels painting with their fingernails
the scrabble tiles of last years nuts
the rapid barber pole spin of
water in quivering pipes:
O Spring! Is it left to me
the last of your servants
to announce your coming?
in response to this Morning Porch post
4 comments:
Seems like much scrabbling around in this dark this year, this spring.
Yes, you can hear it, like a car that won't start in a pre-dawn driveway, but its engine just won't turn over.
I read your 'About Me' section for the first time and enjoyed it much. And enjoyed the varied resume, including the shout-out to dishwashing.
Hey, thanks Evan! And Elizabeth! How nice to see you both. Like sighting comets :-)
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