Spring Again

I turned the corner from the main street,

And something in the air, a small whirlpool

Of familiar things, swirled by my feet,

Grazing my bare arms, opening my pores

To the warmth of this balmy post-winter day.

A sweater thrown over the shoulder,

My body and I were settling

Into a recognized default setting

Of being in spring. A man in sneakers

Walking ahead with a bottle

Of Perrier in hand half-turned, then

Continued on his way, unperturbed.

Sparrows' chatter on the branch by the fence

Conjured its April spell, restarting

The world again in full innocence

And, blending with a dinner-time clatter

From open doors and balconies,

Filled up the back alley lungs

With the promise of distant lands

Where orange trees line up the curbs,

And afternoon music makes a muffled sound.

All of it here, all of it now.