the first friday night of spring official

that memory-nudging scent of pollen
short walks passing families playing baseball
steep hills of tall green grass
boys driving cars with windows down on their way to freshly made plans
vast blue skies behind black zigzagging insects
three short chapters nestled deep in the old testament
loose dogs chasing timid dogs with owners helplessly pursuing close behind
groups of teenagers standing in the way waiting for plans to be decided
that memory-nudging scent of pollen
interlocking diamond patterned patios
microwaves for sale, 20 dollars
robins climbing inclines of roofs and perching at their peaks
those tulips again
broken mufflers roaring past with a dominos delivery sign on top

i've spent a lifetime glancing for four-leaf clovers and have never found one
but somehow those dandelions always seem to find me with no problem

(thankfully i believe more in thebeautyofadandelion than in theluckofaclover)

apartments vacant
windows left propped open
tenants somewhere better, probably outside
footsteps echoing in the stairwell (my own)

a man inside typing stanzas for the world to unnotice

and that memory-nudging scent of pollen