On The First Warm Day

Hang out the sheets 
and take off your shoes.
See, the snow on the mountain 
is melting.
Feel the blades of grass
lie flat under your feet,
the damp earth give 
as you walk.
See the air catch the blanket, 
billow
and settle.
Lie down.
Let the newly warm sun 
pink your cheek,
watch the honeybees move 
from flower to flower,
quilting the lawn.
Brush the thyme, 
hot and stony,
promising summer;
and the geranium leaf, 
thick with rose, clove, pepper.
Suspended in the tree
is a clutch of blue eggs
and the lilac is in bud.
Take the sheets from the line,
sun and breeze caught in their fibres.
Be greedy— 
gather it all, 
breathe it in, 
eat the sweet grass, 
pocket the geramium leaf.
Press spring 
into every fold.