The morning chased a taxi
As it drove on the no man’s land between night and day
The skylight with a whisper of summer
The snow melted quietly from the trees.
The wintry art of nature
Gave way to the next.
The early ones pushed their heads from under their covers
Under which they had slept many moons.
They greeted their friends
The waking trees
Who were putting on their green clothes.
It was time for celebration
Satyrs and forest maidens
Danced under the tree shadows.
