A Nonsensical Spring Poem

A vision so deeply and truly green,

As a painter who forgot the rest of his palette.

The richness of color that one can point to

As the definition of that shade.

The example of green

Resides in the Mississippi Spring.

 

Even the roadside weeds look beautiful.

I hesitate to pull weeds sometimes.

When they rest against what’s supposed to be in the bed

So nicely and complimentary.

Who decided that these should be bad?

But I most often fall in line and act as the responsible gardener

I know I should be.

 

The oaks and pines and dogwoods blur

With the speed of the highway. I try

To focus on one branch the whole way past

Until inevitably I complain from a headache.

We create such silly games to pass the time.

 

The Spring makes me think of all of these things.

None of the cliché thoughts about rebirth and newness,

But the real ones about nonsense.