This Spring

It happens:
I left for a weekend and came back
and the air had changed, the trees had changed
the quality of light whispered excitedly
of spring.

I noticed the first one as an annoyance;
tiny winged thing running itself against
my computer screen.
Then I smiled when I realized
that they had come again
the little winged ones
the little crawling ones.

The ensatina I found this morning
under a piece of bark
who watched me with her moist dark eyes
who woke joy in me again
will be happy.