We’re out, we’re in, we’re out again.
Mutable weather seesaws all day.
Change dances a tarantella
On this fulcrum between seasons.
Bouts of sun teeter toward spring
Spells of snow totter us back in.
This fitful raw energy begets
May’s crescendo, June’s rollicking swell.
For now, constant sandhill cranes
Keep eggs evenly warm
Fuzzy owlets are beak-fed vole bits
Mother fox makes six trips moving kits
Maples are redding with blossom.
When the sun is less skittish
Garter snakes warm into motion.
Then snow buries crocuses
Settles on the setting crane’s back
Snakes scram back under.
The capricious cadence of spring
Refuses to settle just yet.
Lynda Schaller, Gays Mills