It starts with a crocus


nobody's favorite or least favorite flower

Crocuses of butter golden yellow

Of the lightest lavender

Of the darkest purple

Dots and simple stripes

Sit atop thrones made of tulip-stem green

They send out a signal to

O! The trees! O!

(O! pretention. O! use of O! in a poem)

Those glorious trees remember that winter wishes them a frozen death

Eclipse the cold with tiny little buds

They explode into bursting flowers

And implode into leaves and fruits and flowers again

A storm of color boldly says hello

What seems like seconds later,

Every flower

Every ground-plant

The world fills with blossoms and beauty

And fills more with

a cacophony of birds

Warbling and tweeting and chirping