Spring Thaw, by Ruth F. Guillard

Night, early April
White rivers of rain, snowmelt
Roar over the rocks
Scouring the steep slopes
Tripping over grey boulders
Hillsides echoing
Every spring I wait
For this sweet sound of release
The earth rejoicing.

Loon Return, by Carol Bachofner

Long ribbons of loons
descend through a cleft
in the spreading morning;
resplendent in formal attire,
they dip into icy meltwater ponds.
Beautiful, eerie laughter heralds
oncoming spring, breaks the boreal
winter silence with its return.

Growing Lettuce, by Henry Braun

I have broken soil
and run a line in the blackness with my finger
and dropped the flea-like seeds in
too thickly.
Even so, even so,
the lettuce comes, standing room only,
as a favor to a first try
and is a shy green.