SPRING IS MOVING THROUGH

The wind blew
The garbage from
The next-door neighbor’s can
(That he always leaves open
Despite my annoyance)

Across the road
An old bed pillow
Randomly rests in the
Grass beside the parking lot
Soaking up the rain

Several paper plates
Are pressed up against a tree
With remnants of lasagna
Caked on and an empty pickle jar
Rolls noisily down the pavement

Pushed along with no
Apparent destination.
A pizza box sails by and
A greedy Beagle traps
A plastic bag of meat scraps
In its teeth

As he looks side to side
Making a beeline
To wherever he hides his stash
And an empty Oscar Mayer Bologna package
Spins by, skittering along the street

The wind blew
Over the potted plant on the front step
And rolled up the out door carpet on my porch
And tore the wind catcher off
The bottom of my wind chimes.

A cold front is coming through
Tossing out the warmth of yesterday
It gives and it takes
It takes and gives as
Spring is moving through

By Diane E. Dockum