Sunny, 60 degrees
A wind that buffets me but isn’t cold
One inhale’s gift of blossom as I fly
The sun’s light touch that raises up my soul
The water’s glint as I go swiftly by
The pattern of the shadows on the concrete –
rails and steps on ramp up from the underpass
The echo of my song, sustained though incomplete,
hurled down the tunnel while I’m rolling fast
These, with the words that follow melody
Trying their rhythms on the mellow tune
that floats within me answering my tunnel cry
bring heightened pleasure to my afternoon
Ah, spring! How clear the vision you inspire!
How rich the scents! How sweet the homage you require.
©Wendy Mulhern
March 23, 2011