Imperceptible at first it murmurs through the air,
Breaths of light, tiny specks of green on gnarled branches
Shoot Spring into being.
Here it comes with a slight lessening of Grey
The expectation of perhaps a little more light.
Behind my tower block, the daffodils are alive.
I barely noticed their yellow heads flopped by plastic bags and empty pots
There is blossom next to the bus stop.
I wait, imagine wobbling lambs on dew dappled mist mornings
The Meadows waking up leaf by leaf, growing green again.
I used to wait for the crocus’s violet cups
Eager to be their first witness,
Rushing out each morning,
Tracing each path to see the carpet of colour.
I know it must be happening here
But I am not apart of it
The green squares are enclosed
Birds drowned out by ambulance sirens.