SPRING & CO.

The almond tree has bought herself a dress
to make her first communion, and sparrows
in doorways are advertising their green wares.
Now Spring has sold
all her white clothes, her January masks,
and busies herself today only with carrying
puffs of propaganda into every quarter.

Reeds of glass. Flasks of spilt perfume.
Flowered carpets laid for schoolchildren.
Small baskets. Forked poles
of the cherry trees. Over-size gloves
of the duck from the pond. Heron : flying parasol!

Typewriter of breeze in the leaves,
sweet-scented inventory.
Come, see the show-window of the night:
cross of diamonds, little red lanterns,
and a rosary of precious stones.

March has lighted its fires in the grass
and the useless old fir tree has put on green goggles.
Spring, within a few months, will make out
an order for jars of fruit conserve,
grapes —little bulbs of sweet crystal—,
and dry golden leaves in which to pack up distress.