Sun invades water droplets on the sago palm,
transforms them into kaleidoscopic riots of color.
Desert springtime tears apart expectations, time travels
us to summer before our neighbors to the North think thaw.
Last Thursday the finches abandoned our feeder, silenced
their morning prayers, turned Northward toward home, fledglings in tow.
Soon shall we follow—encountering yet again the flourish of rebirth
or, perhaps, another freeze before nature makes up her mind.
Written in Response to Claudia’s prompt for Poetics, but linked to OLN. Looking forward to visiting in a few hours.