Fran Haraway

It's too soon for the front porch swing. No crocuses are opeing. The wind is from the north and chill. No matter. Spring is here. I still Am bound to sit and swing out there And feel it in the evening air. It's much too cold. The trees are lean And leafless—not a sign of green. It's foolishness to sit outside. The mockingbird has testified To spring's existence, and I see The buds are on the almond tree. I'm sure it's spring. How do you know? I think a cricket told me so.

Stripes and stars, Antique cars, Pretty girls, Baton twirls, Spangled gowns, Friendly clowns, Smiling folks, Papered spokes, Marching feet, Endless heat, Clapping hands, High school bands, Town traditions, Politicians, Perspiration, Celebration!