Challenging Poetry

how spring begins

I blinked, and the dogwood
tree was blooming, little white cups
at the end of every branch.
another blink and every tree
was green with buds and moss,
and daffodils were ringing
yellow and white, and then the world
was alive with color, greens
blues, reds, and the birds
were singing, and whistling,
and yelling insults to each other
about love and babies and
building homes too close.
and I blinked, and spring was here
in an explosion of life
between one breath and the next.

April 7—Figure something out in a poem