Though this is a poem about Spring, I feel Fall comes with its own new beginnings. Throwing out what we no longer need, while simultaneously accepting into our lives the new and different before harsh winter winds force us to hibernate. Transitions are difficult, but hopefully through this poem, we can all discover that there is always more yet to come, to achieve, to do, to be. Enjoy…happy reading!

Reestablishing a base,

Reestablishing a pace.

Not jaunty and jumpy like the

Three dear that hopped across my path.

No, something smooth and gliding,

Like the hawk, circling above,

Steadfast and strong.

A place where I belong.

Hips square

Shoulders back

Arms pumping.
The sun makes its last call behind the buildings.

My feet pat, pat, pat on the ground,

Digging out the evening.

I’m not done.

Winters storm took their toll on leafless trees

And my once lively legs.

Spring will come soon.

The wind shifts and I slow my pace to a walk.

Not there yet,

But ready to bloom

Soon.