Leaves on the lawn,

A few holdovers,

Laying low,

Filed in the grass,

Right where I left off.

Spring; that stuttering tease.

Michigan thinks

About being nice

To the daffodils

That yawned yellow

A week ago.

Then I recall

The lion and lambness

Of March.

Take thine ease

O Michigan and March.

Send enough wind

To pull out the

Bookmarks in my

Yard.

Bring enough warmth

To preserve the pedals

Of yellows in their beds.

I’ll wait here.