Spring in South Holland

These days I watch the trees
Looking out at the branches against the sky
I can count nine shades of green

Each uncurling bud on tree and bush
Each following predetermined instructions
To produce astonishing individuality

And glancing lower, there’s the box hedge sprouting
While trails of long leaves from fallen daffodils
Their glory past, await another spring

These greens will change as days move onward
From bright mouth-watering viridian
To sober adult hues

Through biting wind, rain, hailstorms or
Beneath happy sunlight, singing together

It’s their music that I hear, voices in harmony
Encouraging, because the way is long
And saddles can prove painful!

The leaves stretch open in the sun
Revealing their separate stories: beech, oak, ash
Hawthorn, rowan, poplar, maple and willow

Each one a hero. We sing songs about them
Watch them grow, use them, often destroy them.
These days I feel closer to trees

Than to the tall buildings and hard streets
Where I grew up. I think I will find a place
Where I can watch the greening of Spring

And hear the singing through the leaves
Voices and birdsong sparkling through the air
Beneath a soft sky