Blooming Spring

Seeing Spring bloom,
smelling the sweet breeze,
felting delicate on my toes
(as petals do)
Makes me want to sing,
sow handfuls of seeds
and bury bulbs in the earth.
They remind me of my heartsong
at nine years old
when all I wanted to do was become a florist.
I still want to.
One day -
in a haphazard
kind of way,
I'll be the florist who sits you down for tea,
gives you bunches of clover,
tangles of jasmine
and magnolia blooms
wrapped in brown paper and string -
in exchange for laughter, brioche and lines of poetry.