First hummingbird arrived today,

tomorrow the first of May.

Hummingbird hearts, amazingly, beat the fastest.

Forecast of snow for overnight

near nine-thousand feet of height.

Our springs seem unschooled dismissing a guest.


A quilt of snow now graces the ground,

this year’s “Aprill” gone to the devil’s hound.

Snow melts—”shoures sote” and wildflowers sure to follow,

purple-robed, yellow-stamined pasque flowers first to rise.

Easter prayers, for weeks now, empowering spirit-sewn skies.

Winter’s heart beats slow yet will find it’s sorrow.


Cerulean waters and rich earth of green

from the spheres beyond are all that’s seen—

a lonely planet without fiery flames, like the sun.

Rocky heights here and depths of marsh,

from there must seem absurdly harsh—

yet bounded our shores be, lusted over, perennially won.


by S.A. Bort

photo by S.A. Bort / 1 May 2013