I welcome her,

hesitant.

A stilted, forced embrace

I’m unprepared,

Doubtful,

Fearful.

It’s not the right time,

Too soon,

Not yet.

I know what it means

Her early arrival

To all those closest

To this dry, dust.

“What if’s” crowd,

overcrowd.

The sky has been full

Of trailing “V’s” for weeks.

The pussy willows too,

All signs.

I should have known.

 

The earth

Breathes

Calm.

Taking even this

In stride.

This coming.

This surprise.

This hide and seek game,

When the hider is hesitating,

When the seeker calls,

“Ready or not,

here I come.”

She came.

Tip-toeing,

Sneaking,

Slow.

Touching all this empty,

Till it grew.

 

Maybe calendars mean nothing to her.

Maybe she is too spontaneous.

Maybe she’d rather come unexpected,

Maybe it’s her way.

 

 

The green is creeping,

Carpeting

slow

And the pussy willows

Are fluffing out

Reaching out

For the warm.