spring poem (another one)

Oh for God's sake. 

Will you 

quit 

looking at your "ugly" feet 

for just one 

second

and see that field of purple over there,

the greening of the hills,

a sweeping spectrum everywhere.  

She's doing it again, just like every year; 

quietly,

despite 

our continuous insults

(and with a gracious nod to

the guy upstairs)

Reaching down into her ancient self

and pulling out 

renewal.