Sprung

Today is equinox

I hear a woodpecker

Vibrating

Knock knock knocking its rhythm

Seeking those who tunneled through the cold dark,

dreaming of nothing, now moving again

The sun out, rain just past

Spring? Are you here?

Are the sounds of this pileated drummer you making yourself known

The yard garlic and crocus rise up to meet you

Viridian and purple against the moist browns and grays

Willing servants

Sprung.