Spring at Last

Today is a day for strong daffodils.
Today is a day for my shadow, fitting exactly between the yellow lines of paint on the road.
Today is a day for lambs lining up (almost) neatly on a ridge on the Tor,
And for a lamb in the field to headbutt its mother's udder in search of milk,
Overzealous,
And for her to step gently to the side.

Today is a day for thatched roofs,
For eager birdsong,
For pigeons to make a sound with their wings like the one they make with their throats.
Today is a day to drive in a BMW or a Renault or a Citroen,
Or to leave a Volkswagen or a Toyota or a Land Rover parked...

Today is a day to practise the piano.
Today is a day to queue for a record,
Or not to queue for a record.
Today is a day to walk two dogs,
Today is a day for a businesswoman to wear a yellow ribbon.
Today is a day to buy shoes for my wedding.
Today is a day to
be there
in time
for
the
bus.

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