Let the games begin

Lenten Sonnet by Andrew Peterson

I’m gone three days, and I come home to spring.
Daffodils I transplanted last year burst.
Catmint inched up into mounds of bright green.
Sage widened, lamb’s ear appeared, interspersed
Gaily between the stone wall and footpath.
Blackberry branches leaved out. Garlic grew.
Peach buds are swollen and ready to shine.
Little purple crocus cups have pushed through
The brittle brown white oak leaves. The dead vine
Of the clematis is alive again.
Peonies are red spikes cutting through soil.
The plum and cherry trees cannot hold in
Their light much longer, and last year’s long toil
Is about to pay off in spades. The end
Is near. The bees hum, “Let the games begin.”