Trees on the Wing
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Spring green

the hills release
in new green grass,
wake up
stretch out to the horizon,
where the trees,
limbs dark against the still dark sky
wiggle their branches,
tingling in early morning mist,
and sprigs shoot out,
and birds wing home
build nests of twig
and leaf and feather,
and the sky brightens with their singing,
lofting clouds with silver shadows,
as the air
still wet with nighttime rain
scatters its drops like seeds,
and the moist earth
spreads its flanks
to greet the rising sun.