The smell of Spring’s a green and yellow blend
Of lawn and heavy-headed marigolds;
Of rain-soaked decks; of mulch and soil to tend;
Of all the hope a growing season holds.
We breathe it in, and welcome change, adjust
To newness with an ease that’s nature-based.
The January resolution’s dust
Is sprinkled on the garden. I have faced
So many alterations and I see
That turning over ground and rising strong
From compost (shit) that slowly rots can be
The only way to make one’s way along
A twisting path of days. I love this strange/
Familiar season of new growth and change.
Janet Fricke Combs 