spring fever

[crumpetswithtea]

that virus,
dominating and blissful and renewing,
which lay dormant through months of hoarfrost,
annually forces my poor, weather-beaten
and wind-chilled thoughts
into budding tips of poetry,
slightly stunted and under-grown, perhaps
but haler for their lack of pruning.

buds which long so thirstily, now in early March,
with snow still lingering dirtly between roots, on branches,
for the wild earth-smelling panacea
and dancing music
of gentle summer rain.