Now, That Is Spring Poem by Francie Lynch

I shooed a June bug
Off my front screen door,
And the freighters blow fog horns
On The Huron and St. Clair.
The mist rises like incense
From the blackness on Spartan Ave.;
Still a warm May drizzle drifts tonight,
Anointing lawns, gardens and us.
And Beulah, my new magnolia tree,
Blossomed yellow for me this year.
But Brigid and Ophelia,
Heralded my Spring,
Brought sun and light with their arrival,
And a fresh green lease to everything.