A Moving Scene

The first day of spring,
for me brings bright flowers,
a heralding choir of birds,
and a first for vibrant days.

Today it looks like the haze,
following the day of a parade,
left to the rain and wears of night,
pieces to pick up, pack up and preserve for a time.

To be sure, nothing could dampen a day of celebration,
even now I carry a courtyard of bloom,
a burst of flora within my heart,
speaking loud over my slow head.

Here begins a new season,
which I could not have announced,
like a beautiful painting I have not earned,
given when I could only begin to appreciate it.