May at Last

Spring sent timid portents.

Maroon and green horns of skunk cabbage poked out of February muck.

Crocuses shivered and furled under March snow and reopened bravely

In the chilly sun.

But now the season explodes like fireworks.

Flowering trees burst in pink or white.

The crowd goes "OOOOH!" 

Pale maple blossoms glow with light.

Forests of oaks go yellow-green. 

The grass burns like flame,

And dandelions pop like musket fire.

Birds nest,

And alewives leap toward spawning.

You can't keep track of it all.

Over your left shoulder a huge horse chestnut detonates.

In the distance entire orchards go up.

You gape astounded by the thunderous booming of the trees.