Sure, there’s sun. The park is full of it,
the geese dancing in little rings,
the flowers reaching, reaching their petal-fingers.
And yes, little pockets of warm air as I pass
in and out of the shade. The cherry trees are blooming –
this would be evidence enough, even if the breeze still echoes
with a memory of winter. My heart, though,
my heart bears the fullest promise of spring.
My heart is the color of early strawberries,
carrying a hint of the sweetness to come.