You see a flash from out of your periphery
You come upon a hole in the snow from which extends a brown spotted luge
An underground chipmunk highway.
Sounds of construction, you pause mid step to confirm
Trees extend from the pond encircled with icy rings
They bend and stretch, working out the knots from their winter slumber
No the splintering and cracking of ice.
The eight legged arachnids pluck their webbed harps
They need to be repaired after I walk through
They must have warm winter coats to be out this early
Of course there are the sounds of birds but this sign of spring is cliché so I won’t describe it further.
Squirrel on a telephone wire, it’s feet almost invisible as it motors across to the transformer.
I wake up it is bright
I can stay up longer.
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