A Beautiful Sight in the Morning

The year is round around me now:
groundhog, mouse, and mole climb out,
blind and numb beside their burrow.

Worm and hornet, frog and hornpout,
surface from their sleeping mud.
Soft as pussywillows sprout,

barncats stretch and kittens bud.
This tidal circle spins me now
and greens my heart at April flood:

the chickadee, the winter sparrow,
blow North to Canada to breed;
a wet snail climbs the new-turned furrow.

A rash of robins land to feed;
pigweed, pokeweed, ragwort, mallow,
spring from summer’s drifted seed.

The dog-tooth steeps deep yellow
in deep shade. Dandelions sun
the lawn, last week’s ponds are shallow.

The knotted grass snake is undone,
and warmer blood expands to know
the vernal course brown conies run.

The year is round around me now:
as I walk, turn, behind the harrow,
my feet take root against tomorrow.


Green Song, by Philip Booth