by Mary Oliver
I’m ready for spring, but it hasn’t arrived.
Still I take my walk, looking for any early enhancements.
It’s mostly attitude. I’m certain I’ll see something.
I start down the path, peering in all directions.
The mangroves, as always, are standing in their beloved water, their new leaves
very small and tender and pale.
And, look! the way the rising sun strikes them, they could be flowers
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Last updated December 22, 2022