Open wide as a market umbrella,
a white crape myrtle shades my front lawn,
newly pebbled with patches of yellow
dots of dandelions. Just after dawn
I awake to the sound of glad singing
breaking forth in a song without words.
There’s no need for a language; the meaning –
resonates from the joy of the birds.
To their open air concert I’m bringing
only bare feet and sleepy, green eyes,
and my coffee, of course, while I’m flinging
on a tee-shirt and blue jeans. I rise
up delighted by Spring-time this morning,
and deft beauty of nature’s adorning.