As Spring Greens the Walk by Devon Balwit

As Spring Greens the Walk

Spring greens the walk,
dogwood, rhododendron, cherry.
Crows sip at the clogged gutters.
Our pink youth returns as in an x-ray.

Dogwood and cherry
spread like odalisques on a couch,
pink beckoning.
One presses one’s nose in, shamelessly,

as if into an odalisque, spread on a couch.
Love! Love! Awaken from sleep!
I press my nose in, shamelessly,
wet everywhere—the rain, of course.

Love! love! I awaken from sleep,
vowing not to disappoint such beauty,
wet everywhere—the rain, of course.
No more cowardice, a knight errant,

I dedicate myself to beauty,
no longer voiceless, a dawn robin.
No more evasion, this knight errant
announces her territory—Here! here!

Voice of the voiceless, the dawn robin
drowns out the crows at the gutters,
celebrating its small territory—mine! mine!—
as spring greens the walk.

by Devon Balwit

Editor’s Note: This pantoum’s delightful repetition is never tedious and always interesting, much as Spring tends to surprise us every year, despite the repeating refrain of blossoms and birds.

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