Up North, Sections 17, 18

Through my window
        brushstroked clouds
                on blue, trees
reddened with buds, fields
                with sun, there’s
        even a hint of green
                on this day for green.


        Last week a white oval
edged with lace, today
the pond gleams
        in sun, there’s
a red-winged blackbird
        fanning his tail, and
                there, that first robin.