Afternoon ride

Cyclists stretched out along county roads

like threads of bright colored bugs

Strolling couples with flannel shirts tied round their waists

like plaid flags flying at half-mast

Dark green canoes on a sparkling turquoise lake

Long-haired little girls on tiny pink bikes

The smell of sunscreen, music from a radio

People asleep in the sun on winter-dry grass

These are the fruits of a warm March day.

It seems Spring breaks ground in the heart

Long before it flushes the face of the earth.

—This poem wrote itself as I rode, 2014