Some of the trees have buds
Majestic V’s honking Canadian Geese can be glimpsed in the sky
I’m not wearing a jacket
Neither am I wearing shorts
It’s too soon for Dionysian ecstasy
My eyes squint as the brilliant sun shines above the horizon line
When it used to be night a month back
Winter’s sand remains on the roads
Even though they drive the street-cleaners late at night
It feels like I have more energy
